


Mnemosyne: Nemesis

by FeyNWiddershins



Series: Mnemosyne [6]
Category: Daredevil (TV/Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Doctor Strange (Comics), Jessica Jones (Comics/TV), Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Comics/TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, F/M, Gen, Major Original Characters - Freeform, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Multi, Original Character-centric AU, Other, POV Alternating, Sexual Content, character alignment change, evil murder death spree, explicit content, welcome to hell-part two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:57:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeyNWiddershins/pseuds/FeyNWiddershins
Summary: The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. The rest is endless, made of bones and blood. And, somewhere along the way it consumes the traveler utterly. Walk not along its paths.





	1. A Muddied Spring or Polluted Fountain

"Morpheus. Morpheus. Goddamn, you're telling me this guy is a bad dude, but I gotta say, I like that name."

"It's a stupid fucking name for a stupid fucker. … And I wish I'd known about it sooner."

Pretty lady's sense of humor lately was not what it had once been. Actually, she was acting pretty off the rails, but what did Wade know? He was certifiable by anyone else's standards. He just wished she'd laugh at _one_ of his jokes.

"Okay, sure, but… Morpheus. Say it. It's gotta ring to it. _Mor_ -pheus."

"Personally, I think it's tacky. Taking some Greek demi-god name to match yours. Like, ride your own wave, asshole." When the Spider-Lady talked, Wade tended to agree. "It's almost pitiful. He's so obsessed with you he took a matching name. Elch, what a creep."

"Thank you, Drew. It'll bite him in the ass soon enough, too. Now that I know he's using it…"

"Oh! So… he called himself this Morpheus guy because you're #Mnemosyne?"

In her matchy-match suit, the pretty lady was _way_ more scary when she glared. Even when they couldn't see her eyes, the red and black seemed alive and angry, and that got the point across. Not shit your pants scary, but, like, hide your nuggets scary. Wade took a step back when she wheeled on him.

"Nemesis, Wade. Call me Nemesis. Not pretty lady, not Mnemosyne, not Tessa. They're gone. They have to be gone and I have to be Nemesis."

Her voice sounded sad. Wade didn't like it when the pretty lady was sad, it bummed him out. Joke time. "You know, that name's already been taken if we're going by 616 continuity."

No laughter, just a sigh and the pretty lady turned back around. That joke would have killed on Reddit. "Just use the damned name, Wade. It's a safety thing."

"So, the front door just shut." The Spider-Lady dropped down from the platform above them and handed Wade the binoculars. "I'm guessing whoever's going to be there is there now."

"That's what I was worried about. Shit. Well, they know _of_ Morpheus, but they don't know him. Not a single fucking one of them. This is another dead end." Pretty lady grabbed them, zapping them to the bottom of the fire escape. "Wade, you're up. Kill 'em all."

"Yippee!"

" _Wait_. If any of them offer up information, take it. Then, kill them. Drew, I want you to find Giotto and compel him, no matter what it'll mean for him, to take you to Morpheus. I'm tired of this wild goose chase. Don't meet Morris, just find out where he is. Both of you, find me when you're done. I'll be in Hell's Kitchen tonight."

Wade skidded to a stop. "But, uh, Nemmy… I thought Hell's Kitchen was a no-go zone…"

"Yeah, well… I just felt something weird there. I can't identify it and I don't like that, so I'm going to go take a peek. It might have Morpheus written all over it."

The Spider-Lady had already crawled back up the building. It was just Wade and the pretty lady now. He could ask her the very, very incredibly important question. "Psst, Neminem. Does this mean I get to use my brand new micro-bomb? It detonates a range 700 times its own radius. Heh-heh."

The pretty lady unsheathed her sword and shook her head. "No, Wade. No property damage."

"Poop. You're no fun," he grumbled as she disappeared. Then he remembered that he got to go inside and annihilate, like, thirty people. She was a little fun.

 

The night air shivered as Nemesis appeared on top of the water tower. No one who looked up there would have noticed anything, however. Just the brief shadow of a passing cloud. The blue and white of her old costume had made Tessa like a patch of cloudless night sky. Now she was the cloud and, if anyone actually got close enough, the livid clash of red and black during sunset. But no one had gotten close enough yet and remembered.

"Riddle time, wishing rock. What has no memory bank and yet remembers one single identical thing in dozens of different places? That's right. A hive mind. A hive mind that just woke up… Interesting."

She danced around the edge of the water tower, following the silent path of the figure below her. It wasn't a normal sight, even in Hell's Kitchen. Nemesis's sword caught the moonlight as she dropped down behind the interloper. As quickly as she had dropped, the figure lashed out, its own sword cracking across hers. The second strike hit true, but did her no damage. Nemesis's sword, however, struck and felled its target.

"Well, I'll be fucked sideways. An honest to god ninja." She toed the body over, then bent down to place her hand on his head. With a jerk, she immediately stood again. "Ugh. That's not right… What the fuck is going on here?"

Not necessarily in answer to her question but in response, an arrow shot across the roof and into her face. It impacted with a dull thump and fell at her feet. This one actually lost his head as Nemesis phased beside him.

"That worked. Huh." The sword swiped through the air again, finishing its arc as Nemesis phased to the other side of the body. "I'll have to remember that… And _this_ makes two ninja linked into a collective memory. Gee, I wonder what all the other hive mind satellites are."

All Tanya wanted was a hot shower and to take off her shoes. A twenty-two hour shift she'd just finished. Twenty-two hours. She was exhausted. And overworked, obviously. And then, she was terrified. Someone in a glowing bodysuit appeared in front of her car. For two brief seconds, Tanya panicked. She'd already dealt with weird ass injuries that day, she didn't want to deal with the weird ass source of them. Now, she was going to die there in her shitty Camry in the parking garage of this shitty hospital that she didn't even want to work at. When the third second passed, she was calm again and counting down the minutes until that shower. She pulled her car out without noticing the woman now stepping up onto the garage's railing. She didn't even see the dozens of skittering forms scaling the hospital walls.

"Well, would you lookee there. More ninja. Who'd've guessed?" Nemesis raised a hand towards her sword and then paused. On her chest, a warning flashed, two bright red pulses. "No… You're right. Something's old and dark in there. I… want nothing to do with that. Oh, and here comes the man without fear. Time to make my exit."

Dez, in the hospital room directly across from where Tanya's car had been parked, suddenly stopped waving his arms and shouting for help. Instead, he ducked below his bed again and whimpered. Ninjas, man. And then, he noticed his phone in his hand. On its screen was a figure he couldn't remember photographing. He hunkered lower to the ground as the crashes grew louder, but didn't close out the photo. Instead, he stared at it and wondered who she was.

Young Gigi was up way past her bedtime, but the hospital was noisier than normal. She stood at the window that she was usually too scared to come near and stared at the little ant people crawling up and into the building. They fascinated her, but it was the disappearing one with the sword on the roof that really held her attention. If she squinted, it looked like it was glowing. And maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed like it was a lady. She'd always wanted to see a girl superhero in action. There was so much blood, though. Even at that distance, it would probably have been a sight that scarred her for years. But then she forgot.

Had anyone been paying it any attention at that hour of the night, they would have noticed the enormous ad across from the co-op glitch momentarily. Nemesis crouched on top of it and wiped clean her sword. With it sheathed again, she perched there and stared into the apartment in front of her where the lights were never on. And there she remained, motionless, hardly breathing for several minutes. When the horned silhouette of Daredevil appeared on the rooftop opposite, she didn't flinch all. Once the door on the roof quietly clicked shut, however, a small sigh did escape her lips.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured not a moment later, as a second shadowy figure leapt onto the roof. "You were not invited."

This one disappeared from the roof as suddenly as he had arrived. Appeared a few buildings over only to be immediately eviscerated. He died as silently as he had lived. Nemesis again wiped clean her blade and sheathed it.

"Need I remind you about the 'no questions' clause of our agreement?"

As she turned his way, Deadpool hopped down from the water tower Nemesis had landed on an hour before. " _You_ said you weren't stalking him anymore. You said you set him free, the lovely red bird that he is…"

"My preference is for the birds I set free to be alive. Mind your own business, Wade, or I'll make you. What do you know about ninja? Specifically ninja with a shared memory and/or consciousness that reek of death magic…"

"Ninjas? I dunno they fight zombies or something on my phone. You know we can set up a watch for him, if you want, keep him safe in turns." He knelt down and sniffed at the body. "Smells like a dead body… I'm not picking up death magic per se. Maybe some b.o., which… I _guess_ could be some kind of death magic."

"No, no, no and never mind. Forget this happened. I mean it."

Deadpool dropped the off-color intestine when he noticed Nemesis turning away. "Hey, where are you going? Does this mean I get to go to bingo night?"

"Wait for Drew at base. I'm going to find out more about these ninja."

 

"What is it with these places? I don't get it. What's the appeal?" Danny had to shout to even hear his own voice over the dance music.

Luke heard him still. That, or he was rolling his eyes at the situation. "Just shut the damn music down, man. And turn the lights on."

"My pleasure." Danny took a few steps back and then sprinted forward. Bar top, column, balcony railing. He flipped himself onto the catwalk above the dance floor and then sprinted towards the DJ booth. Below him, Luke waded through the undulating sea of bodies and towards the frothing brawl in the center. He always got the fun stuff when they worked together. People responded better to him.

"HEY, CRACKHEADS, THIS LOOK LIKE FIGHT CLUB TO YOU?!"

Luke Cage, such a people person. The free-for-all stuttered for a moment in the aftershock of Luke's shout. Then, re-engaged at twice the intensity. Danny grumbled and finally dropped onto the stage. The door was flimsier than it looked. He'd have to pay for that.

"Hey, guy… I hate to tell you how to do your job, but… I don't really know what it is you do in here, so…" Grabbing the DJ by the back of his shirt, Danny yanked him free of the booth and took his place. "Now… where's the big 'off' switch?" He found the button labeled 'house lights' and pressed it immediately. Suddenly, it looked like the interior of an office building but with strobes. A few more buttons and switches later, he'd stopped the light show. Those were all labeled. The audio gear, though, it looked like a cockpit. And expensive like a cockpit.

The DJ was outside the booth, looking like he'd pissed his pants. Danny grabbed him. "HOW DO YOU TURN OFF THIS MUSIC? I DON'T WANT TO SMASH YOUR GEAR, SO… JUST TURN IT OFF!"

The guy nodded and leaned back inside, flipping a single switch and then backing away with his hands up. "I'm just here to mix, man. Just here to mix," he said, a chorus of loud aw's and grumbles behind them.

"You're good. There a microphone here?" Immediately, there was one in Danny's hand. " _AHEM, GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. I'M SORRY TO INTERRUPT YOUR EVENING OF PRIMAL GRINDING AND GRUNTING BUT I'M GOING TO HAVE TO ASK YOU TO EVACUATE THE BUILDING IN AN ORDERLY FASHION. THIS IS A MATTER OF SAFETY, YOUR COOPERATION IS APPRECIATED_."

Danny tossed the microphone back to the DJ. "You're gonna want to leave, too. This may get messy," he nodded as the guy ran away, and then leapt over the railing and into the fray below them.

"They're on something!" Luke lifted two of the crowd apart and off the ground.

"Isn't that a rave thing? Aren't they all hopped up?"

A few jumped onto Luke, crawling on him like crazed squirrels. "This ain't just X!"

"Yeah, I guess…" Danny ducked and wove between them. They did seem overcharged and really distractible. He focused on taking their legs out from under them. "So, you really just… stopped seeing each other?"

"Not now, man…"

"But, you two seemed happy--"

"Now is _not_ the time." One body crashed into another, into another, until a stack of them were groaning against the wall.

"I'm just worried about you, Luke. Aren't I allowed to be worried about you?"

Luke caught the maniac Danny had thrown his way, slammed him into a rushing group. "Fine. I'm fine. We weren't ever anything. A few dates, nothing official. She's a friend. I was there when she needed me. Now she doesn't."

"Seemed like more than being friendly…" These guys were not staying down. Danny hit one, heard a crack, and still had to step out of the way of his wild swing. "Something happen?"

"No. She just stopped coming by."

"Maybe something happened with her?"

"Maybe. Damn! I'm 'bout sick of this bullshit, man! These jackasses are gonna hurt themselves!"

"Yeah, me, too… What'ya wanna run?"

Luke stopped batting away attacks and stood up straight. "Hit me."

"Shockwave? You sure?"

"These guys aren't normal, but that'll put--" He yanked one off his back and slammed him into the grouping mass around him. "--put 'em on their asses long enough for us to haul 'em off."

"Yeah, okay." Danny jogged backwards and leapt up onto a table. Hand clenched, he focused on his fist, energy pooling in his fingers and knuckles. A few of those swarming Luke turned around at the sudden light. "Ready?"

Luke cracked his neck, bracing himself. "Hit me!"

"Alright!" The height of the table gave him easy clearance. Danny jumped over their heads and dead into the center of the riot. His hand slammed into Luke's chest with a resounding boom, like a jet going supersonic. With the shockwave of the impact, he skidded a few feet backwards and Luke stumbled into the wall behind him. The rabid brawlers, though? They flew across the room. "Wa-boom! That worked… You good?"

"I'm good. That'll bruise, though." Luke stood up again, brushing at the hole in his shirt. "This is why I don't buy clothes I like anymore--"

"Bravo! Bravo!"

They both turned around, squinting at the beams of the ceiling, searching for the source of the applause.

"Quite the show, gentlemen."

Danny immediately recognized the purple and white suit. "Oh, it's Mnemosyne. Hey, Mnemosyne is a fan, Luke."

"Man, don't embarrass me. She is _not_ here to see you." Luke stepped forward. "You can do your mojo to whichever of these crackheads you need to now. They're down for a while. We're just going to call the cops."

"That's very considerate, gigantor, but…" Her voice echoed from above to right in front of them. "I'm not here for the drug addicts."

Danny beamed Luke's way. "Not here to see me, huh," he whispered as Mnemosyne walked towards him.

"Hey, dragon boy. I need to borrow you, if your partner doesn't mind." She turned to Luke, who shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Great. You won't remember me being here."

In a blink, Danny was standing in his living room, feeling like his body had been pulled into his bellybutton and then yanked back out again. "Ugh."

"And, you dragon boy, remember."

That feeling that had been tickling at his subconscious, causing anxiety about having forgotten something, it suddenly disappeared. In its place, a different version of the last week and a half dawned on him. He'd suddenly remembered a whole 24 plus hours of his life completely differently. And now, his heart was pounding much harder than it had been a moment before.

"Happy to see me, Rand?"

The short answer was yes. Thrilled would have been an appropriate word even, except for the weird dissonance happening in his head. Half of him was surprised and excited, the other half was _excited_ and curious. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You could say that. I'm also confused, which I guess is something I should expect when you're involved… there are two versions of things in my head right now. Um… did you… change your hair?"

There was definitely something different about Tessa. Danny just couldn't put his finger on it yet.

"No flirting, Rand…" She tossed her mask onto the counter, and unstrapped her sword. "I've only got enough time for a few questions."

"Questions?" She was a barrel of surprises this evening. Also dissonance.

"Yes. So, take your clothes off and tell me about these ninja." A cluster of images and sounds flooded his mind's eye when she tapped his forehead. Memories of ninja, just like she'd said, but a particular brand, complete with the unsettling feeling they brought with them anywhere they went.

"Oh… that… that feels like the Hand. I don't--" She was naked. Focus, Danny. Answer the question… something about the Hand-- oh yeah. "I don't have the most firsthand experience of them, but my people and their organization have a long history of disagreements. Mostly feudal."

She'd been serious about him taking off his clothes. Turned out, she'd do it for him if Danny didn't, all while asking him rather serious, esoteric history questions. "Feudal?"

"Mm… mm-hmm. Uh--um, the Hand attempted to conquer all of Asia for a while there, including the Immortal City one decade, when the gateway was open… it was messy." And now, Danny was naked and finding the clash between mood and conversation disquieting. "Uh… They're bad news overall, and my responsibility. Definitely something I can help with, but… unfortunately, I have no idea what they're actually doing here outside of the general nefarious plotting they trade in."

There was definitely something off with Tessa. She wasn't making eye contact, eyeing him even more like a piece of meat than last time. And her voice was weirdly flat. And yet, the touching… It was hard to focus on the other with the touching.

"It's something with zombie kids…" That did it. That trumped the touching. "Felt bad, felt like death and rotting. I did _not_ like it-- what's wrong?"

Danny took a step back from her and cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know about you, but someone says the word 'zombie' and my sex drive dries right up. Yeah… So, Tessa, what's going on with you--"

"I thought about you the other day in the shower. See?" When Tessa told a person about something she did the other day, apparently part of that story was putting her memory of what she did the other day directly into their head. It… was even more distracting than the touching.

"Yeah. Yeah, wow, you did."

***

ONE BROKEN BEDFRAME AND A NOISE COMPLAINT LATER

***

"That… was a better workout than the whole rave bust tonight put together. You're being awfully quiet. Did I not live up to last time?"

"I'm just thinking, Rand. I got what I came here for. Relax."

Danny sat up from trying to shove the joints of his bed back together. "Thanks for leaving me to pine over that girl, Penny, by the way… all while cleaning up the disaster zone we created here. Is she even real?"

"She's a real person. Her name's not Penny and you've never met her, but she's real." Looking back at him from the window, Tessa almost gave him a smile. It was more like a smirk, but whatever. "And you have a cleaning service. Don't act like it was a chore I left you to do."

"There are things I would never subject another person to, and cleaning up after an extreme sex event is one of them…" It finally clicked what seemed different about her. He was getting dissonance off of _her_ not just his clashing memories. "Are you okay? Is… is the thing with Murdock really hard right now, or something?"

"Let's not chat about my lost personal life, alright, Rand? Are you sure you can't tell me anything else about the Hand?"

"Uh… yes? You could check for yourself if you don't believe me. But… seriously, Tessa, are you feeling alright? Your… your chi is all misaligned. It feels almost… withered, like it's been contaminated or something. Muddied. It's not flowing properly."

She leaned away from his touch. "Tsk. Ah, Daniel. You couldn't have just been adorable and oblivious and _unjudging?_ So… what are you saying? I'm _tainted_ now? Ha. You're as bad as Matt."

Danny found himself staring at the opal in her chest. "What? No, I--" It was garishly bright, blinding even.

She scoffed and the light from the opal smothered everything else. "Forget."


	2. Tilt-Shift

It took him most of the day -- and that _might_ have been due to a few distractions, but really, who leaves a giant inflatable stick-man outside a store and doesn't expect it to get its ass handed to it and/or popped with pointy knives? -- but Deadpool eventually found the pretty lady-- erm-- eventually found _Nemesis._ She certainly wasn't at their base where Deadpool had waited patiently as told for a whole twenty minutes (world record for him). Drew hadn't shown up and he'd gotten bored, but she hadn't been there when he checked back either. No, instead he found her on top of one of those fancy grocery stores where no one can really explain why they're paying so much for the same stuff they can get at another, less spicy-smelling grocery store. Anyway, he found her on the roof of one of those grocery stores and then stole a few sandwiches from their prep room in the back before climbing back up to her, because fuck them for telling him he smelled bad and couldn't shop there so heavily armed.

"This is not the base, Deadpool," she said as he scrambled over the edge and flopped onto the roof.

"Well… you weren't there, so I found you. Here." He dangled the sandwich in front of her face. She didn't seem to see it, her eyes all distant, staring off into the sunset, so he dropped it in her lap. "Also, here."

Oh yeah, one of the other distractions was the very loud, somewhat obnoxious reporter on the app on his phone that picked up things he only marginally cared about but he couldn't get rid of. This reporter had a whole headline put together about _Nemesis--_ except they didn't know her name, just called her the 'mysterious new costumed presence in Manhattan' which was hella vague and not interesting at all. So, yeah… this reporter guy had this whole exposé put together on this person he didn't even know the name of -- noob -- and had been going around asking other superfolk about her, but nobody really knew anything. They just had this one kind of blurry picture, but it seemed important for _Nemesis_ to know about this picture.

Deadpool fast-forwarded to the part that was important to the plot and hit play. " _…'ve been the only one who could actually capture her image, which is what you folks are looking at, at home. Ms. Jones, do you have a comment on this new individual?_ " The audio sounded all crinkly and then the photo was replaced by a tight-shot of _Nemesis'_ once bestie looking way pissed off and obviously trying to storm away. " _I took the picture like you asked. I don't know who it is and I don't care. You should leave me alone and I should sue your ass for lying to me about what this was for. Get that camera out of my fucking face_ \--"

Finally, _Nemesis_ took the phone from his hand and stopped the playback. "I knew I felt her see me," she growled, then -- very rudely -- threw the phone into his chest.

But, DP was groovy with the mood. He rolled with the punches and sat down beside her, unwrapping one of the sandwiches and holding it in front of her mouth, for maximum om-nom ease. "You're soft on your friends. It makes sense. Eat this."

"I'll have to do another state-wide wipe about me… fuck," she sighed, but then she took a bite of the sandwich. Score one for the mothering-merc. "Why does everyone in this city feel the need to stick their heads up everyone else's asses?"

"Aw, don't kink-shame, Nem-Nem, it does not make you a sympathetic character for our readers."

"For fuck's sake, Deadpool… Can you keep it together for a few more days? Just a few more days when you don't go off into your own psychedelic world."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll de-meta for you, Nem." He poked at her hand until she stopped gesturing with the sandwich and went back to eating it. Your body needs calories to function. "So… what are we doing sitting here on top of this fancy, judgey grocery store?"

"That thing I felt in Hell's Kitchen is a problem. It's some kind of collective consciousness shared by a bunch of possibly undead ninja called the Hand. I don't think it's a true hive mind, like I suspected at first. Instead, it's like… like they share information over it as they need to. The information is something I can register, though, because it's structured like memories."

"Okay… creepy zombie ninja memories. What's the problem?"

"The _problem_ is that it's… it's…" she shivered. "I don't know how to describe it other than it smells bad, in my head. Every time I try to get near it, I lose control or black out. Either they have a warding spell or something up or… I'm allergic to it? I don't know."

"So, leave it alone. Sounds gross anyway."

"I can't just leave it alone, Wade. I have this… _feeling_ that there's something in there I need to know." Her sandwich set aside, _Nemesis_ grabbed at her chest. Behind her hand, the tiny little creepy light from her rad Soul-Sucker jewel shone out. "I'm going to try to sift through it again. It's good that you're here, actually. You can smack me-- and I mean it, smack me really hard --if I get too dug in or start convulsing or something weird."

"What if I just shake you really hard? Shiklah doesn't want me hitting other women, it makes her jealous."

"Whatever, Wade."

At least he'd managed to get her to eat half that sandwich. It was the only food he'd seen her eat in days. Just thinking about that made him hungry. He finished it for her and then leaned against the roof's edge as she pulled her mask back on. "I'll shake you hard enough to snap your neck, sound good?"

"Perfect."

It was totally his intention to lay there and stare at her until she came out of her little trance thing. Totally. But, he had a full stomach and the everything was getting dark and it was _just so boring_. So, Deadpool fell asleep. When he woke back up, he had no idea how long he'd been asleep, except that it was long enough for the sun to go all the way down and for _Nemesis_ to have gone cold to the touch. But, she wasn't convulsing or speaking in tongues. There was definitely no Exorcist pea soup projectile vomiting. Wade didn't know, maybe she was always cold to the touch these days. He couldn't remember… So, he didn't shake her. He did, however, start throwing gravel into her lap. He was bored!

Then, maybe he missed his target or maybe he hit the _right_ target, but _Nemesis_ suddenly gasped and scrambled backwards. "Fuck. Fuck, damn it, shit, cock, fuck."

"Bad dream?"

"Goddamned motherfucker bought magic off them, too…" She stood, gravel nuggets spilling down her legs. "No wonder I keep hitting brick walls with his people. He's got this… this other magic backing him. I don't understand this magic… fuck."

"Who? Burt Reynolds?"

"No, Morpheus. Get up. We have a few ladies to track down."

 

"They're twins? I love twins."

"Not these two, I assure you, you won't love these two." _Nemesis_ started pacing the apartment they'd just appeared in. It would've been nice if she'd found one with premium cable. "They're working for the leader of this organization. They _do not_ have good things planned. I… I could… There are other people-- no, the one on the right. Do you see the one on the right?"

Deadpool stood back up and peered out the window. "Yeah. The one that looks like the other one."

"The one on _the right_ is the liaison with Morris. Among other asshats in this city. We need to grab the one on the right."

"They look exactly the same to me."

"Well, they're not! The one on the left is Tyler, her sister, Carrie is on the right and she has a birthmark on her neck. Okay? We need Carrie. Got it?"

"Got it. Carrie. Birthmark."

"Fuck, Wade…" She stopped pacing and rubbed at her forehead. "Why do you have to be so dense?"

"What's wrong with your head, Nemory?"

"It… it hurts. It's nothing."

"You should have finished your lunch." He waggled a finger at her with a scoldy tone.

"This isn't about me-- just… get ready to grab her and hold on while I get some info!"

He shuffled back to the window, looking down at the two identical ladies. "Why don't you just do it from here?"

"They're… the two of them are giving off memory feedback from one another. I can't parse out much from them."

"Is that why your head hurts?"

"What? N--Maybe… Yes, Deadpool, that is why my head hurts and we need to get them apart so it'll stop."

"On it, boss!" Scooping out his handiest dandiest pair of handcuffs, he pranced over to _Nemesis_ and slapped a hand onto her shoulder. "Le's do this."

Not to brag or anything, but _Nemesis_ and him were a finely tuned machine by now. All yelling aside, he knew what she wanted him to do and did it, really fucking good, too, every single time. They were easily the best team-up in the city. Easily. Which was why, when she ba-zanga-ed them down there, Deadpool immediately handcuffed the correct sister, on the second try, and then they disappeared again. Total success. They got out of there with the right twin and Deadpool only had six bullet holes to sew up in this suit.

"High five!" He chirped when they appeared back on top of the grocery store.

 _Nemesis,_ though, she just charged right past him and decked this broad across the face. "Shut up! And you, shut up too. That was almost a disaster because you have the attention span of a fruit fly!"

"I liked the old you better," Deadpool grumbled, dropping his un-high-fived hand.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. What's she mumbling?"

They both turned to the twin, crouching, her mouth bleeding. She was definitely mumbling something, sounded like gibberish. _Nemesis_ looked down at her chest, where the red was really bright and flashing a little bit like a smoke detector, and then cracked the twin-lady again across the mouth.

"This bitch is trying to bind me to her."

"Naughty." Deadpool shoved his hand into her mouth, which she promptly bit down on. "You can gnaw on me all you want, lady. This hand's seen much worse than the inside of your mouth."

Then, she started gagging. Probably at the taste. The snooty people in the expensive store hadn't been wrong, he smelled terrible and mostly because he hadn't washed this particular suit since that adventure in the sewers. Whoopsie.

"Fuck, don't choke her. She dies and it becomes much harder for me to dig these memories out."

He could feel her tongue straining under his hand. She would choke soon, so Deadpool took his hand out of her mouth. Then she started with the mumbling again, didn't even cough or retch or anything.

"No!" _Nemesis_ jerked toward them, sword unsheathing. "The spell's almost complete!"

Wade moved to cover her mouth again, but the sword was faster, much faster. Her head rolled to a stop at his feet. At least it wasn't the only head that looked like that.

"Shit… Let's hope Drew's been more successful…"

 

While _Nemesis_ sat over in her corner and dug through her archives of memories of people who no longer had bodies, like Carrie, Deadpool decorated their new roof. Carrie's head looked very good as an expensive grocery store gargoyle.

"Deadpool, if you're going to mutilate that woman's corpse, please don't do it in a way that'll attract attention to the fact that we're up here."

He stopped trying to prop her arms up behind her head like antlers. "Fine… Can I dump the body somewhere… fun?"

"Yes, fine, but nowhere with chil-- no!"

Wade hadn't taken the body anywhere yet, but all of a sudden he was in a different place. Actually, it was like the inside of his head was in a different place, and that place was a movie theater. Except the movie theater was a full body experience and it was a very horrible movie that he would never had paid money to see or feel or anything. Then, he realized it was the pretty lady movie theater and this was her movie. He recognized the sound of her crying.

The memory he'd been bombed with was a short one, or the explosion didn't last very long, but it was still way too long. And it didn't go away, he didn't forget it. It was like it was his memory now. One more traumatic experience to add to the catalog. He waved his hands in front of his face, trying to get the… the all of it out of his head. _Nemesis_ caught his arm before he almost tipped over the side.

"What _was_ that?"

"Morris. He… found a way to booby-trap his dead associates' memories."

"No, what was that, in my head?"

"A memory landmine, of sorts. I accidentally triggered it, I guess you were… in range or something. I'm not going to pretend I understand the metaphysics of it."

"That was gnarly! Ugh! That… that's a horrible feeling, and I had someone try to burn my skin off with an acid drip once."

"Welcome to the thing that I woke up to in a cold sweat for years afterwards… That wasn't even the worst time."

"He did that to you? This Morpheus?"

 _Nemesis's_ voice hardly changed when she answered. She'd sounded like she was talking about plans or food or anything other than rape. "Three hundred and seventy-one times before someone tried to stop him… He had her killed recently…"

"Three--THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY ONE TIMES?" Wade's approximation of normal was pretty out of whack, but even he knew that was all kinds of crazy fucked up.

But, she didn't respond. Her gaze shifted over his shoulder. "The Hand…" Then, poof! she was gone.

 

Tracking this one had proved to be a formidable challenge, due to the nature of their teleportation abilities. However, a clear pattern had emerged. If she waited around the perimeter of Hell's Kitchen, this one would eventually show up. And there she was, atop that water tower again.

Natasha kept her distance. Intel suggested her abilities were in some regard telepathic. She had to maintain at least a fifty foot span between them, or her cover would be compromised. Luckily, this evening she appeared distracted by something. In quick jumps, she seemed to be heading southwest, deeper into the neighborhood. Something had her attention.

A scan of her fast departing quarry told Natasha she had a cell phone on her somewhere. Now, it had a trace on it. She could hang back and wait until the target found her own target. And it didn't take long before the little tag on the screen came to a dead and constant stop. Natasha headed that way.

What she found there was not at all what she expected. Belly down on a fire escape, Natasha looked out over the city onto a ludicrous, impossible sight. There were at least fifty members of the Hand gathering on top of a decrepit warehouse, surrounding the vigilante known as Daredevil, whom Natasha strongly suspected to be lawyer Matthew Murdock. At his side was not Natasha's quarry but the wanted international felon Elektra Natchios. Her quarry was on an adjacent roof, simply watching.

Infrared couldn't register her specific facial features through that mask, but it could register expressions, and Natasha was pretty damn sure that her target was shocked to hell. Shock faded soon to something softer, the uplift of the brow and turn of the mouth indicated pain or sadness. Natasha couldn't tell for sure with this tech at this distance. If she were still with SHIELD she'd have put in her report that it was both. And right that second, she would have announced over comms that the target was about to be on the move, because the expression that followed was definitely pain and a little bit of anger.

"Well… looks like our mystery mask has a thing for the Daredevil guy. That or she's really afraid of the Hand."

"No kidding. Huh. Is she who you thought?" Sharon must have been even farther out of range than before. Her reception was shit.

"I'm about to find out."

Natasha carefully picked her way across the surrounding rooftops, circling around to intercept the target in her path. Surprise was Natasha's only real option and even then she would have to be lightning quick. This one was ideal stealth material, unpredictable movement, precog awareness of some kind, and apparently ruthless with that samurai sword. That much became doubly clear as Natasha crossed the trail of Hand members she'd run into along the way.

"One hundred feet and closing. Going dark." Natasha tapped her ear and made her mind go blank. Her only thoughts were muscle memory. Widow bites charged up, no gunfire in the middle of the civilian population. Hand to hand only. She really hoped that sword wasn't vibranium.

Emotional distress played in Natasha's favor. She didn't sense her approaching until it was too late. The Bites got off two clear shots. She convulsed for a second, suit lighting up like the borealis with reds and purples, but she didn't drop. Instead, she turned and stared at Natasha as she fired off three more pulses.

"What?" She was genuinely shocked, apparently. So shocked she wasn't fighting back. The sword remained sheathed as she simply took the blows Natasha landed or sluggishly dodged them.

"Go… down!" Natasha grumbled, swinging up her body and onto her shoulders, delivering a full charge from both Bites into her neck.

"Stop!" She vanished out from under Natasha, stumbling to one knee a few feet away.

The Bites weren't working. Time for the garrote, at least knock her out. She was resisting more actively now, blocking swipes and ducking out of the way of Natasha's legs. It seemed she was, in fact, some kind of a precog. She knew exactly what to expect from Natasha's fighting style. So, Natasha switched it up. Steve's more direct form she hadn't anticipated. Natasha finally sent her sprawling. That's when the sword came out.

"Natasha, please!"

The sword was vibranium. Sliced through that garrote like butter and part of Natasha's shoulder. That would need stitches later. Her arm was still moving, she could still do this. Time to try out those new nightclubs. Except suddenly there was no fight. The woman in front of her backed away, staring, and then, possibly bursting into tears, completely disappeared. Natasha waited a few minutes only to find the tag come back into service across town. The phone she found an hour later, abandoned in a dumpster.

Her suspicions would have to wait to be confirmed.

 

If anyone had thought to look on the top of the Empire State Building's observation deck at any time during the next five hours, they would have found a truly distraught nutcase in a bodysuit having an emotional breakdown. By the time Deadpool got back into contact with her the next afternoon, though, there was no sign of emotional distress. In fact, Nemesis was the picture of emotionless calm in the face of what Deadpool would have bet money on being the thing that broke her heart.

Perched in the top floor window of the building opposite, Nemesis was gazing down into the offices of Nelson and Murdock. She wasn't moving or really even breathing, so when Deadpool slipped inside he automatically assumed she was in one of her memory trances. Then, he noticed the two people just visible between the slats of the blinds several stories below. To his eye, they just seemed to be standing there, maybe talking. Problem was, of course, that one of them was the pretty lady's dearest darling sweetheart, the blind lawyer, and the other was his new squeeze, the tall angel-eyed blonde lady. It had been briefly explained to him that this lady was playing the pretty lady's--oops, _Nemesis's_ role since the memory scramble, but he didn't really follow, got bored part the way through when she wouldn't tell him about the office sex that had obviously happened.

So, now Nemesis Deadpool found peeping on the off limits, dreamy lawyer-man, who she still held a big, horrible torch for. And then, as they're standing there, the blonde lady rushed forward and… yikes… kissed him. Deadpool winced and stepped closer to the window where Nemesis was quietly watching. She hadn't winced or flinched or gasped or nothing. Stoic was the word for her.

"This is either really kinky or really sad… or really both. Which is it, Nemmy?" Cringe. They were still kissing.

But still, Nemesis wasn't cringing. She stood up, face like fucking Mount Rushmore and stepped past him. "Really empowering… Turns out, I _am_ invulnerable."

"That can't feel good, you know for the regret and stuff…" He stepped into her place and peeked through the blinds. Man, that was… Deadpool would have went with 'kinky', this was good for 'kinky'.

"I didn't feel a thing. Like I said, empowering. I can move on."

He glanced between her and the window. Between the lead up to some free porn and the disco show happening between her buzoombas. "If you say so… Hey, did you _know_ your ex is Daredevil?"

 

It had been a long couple of days for Jessica Drew. LONG. But now, finally, she was getting out of the fucking toxic cloud of Giotto's cologne radius and gliding her sexy ass back to Nemesis HQ. She was getting paid outstandingly well, so the work was worth it, but… that was a _grueling_ assignment by anyone's standards. And that Giotto dickwad was a wolfy bastard, eager with the hands and not exactly subtle with anything else. Gross. That all worked in her favor, of course, because when the blood was somewhere besides a man's brain he was even easier to manipulate, chemicals excluded. But still, by the time she left him, he was so juiced up on her pheromones he probably would have walked off a bridge if she'd asked him to. Maybe she should have.

"Oh, boy, are you a sight for sore eyes." Deadpool was up on the roof when Drew dropped in.

"Don't be gross, I just dealt with two straight days of gross."

"No, I mean… our employer is… well, Nemmy isn't having the best day."

Jessica scoffed and pushed past him. "I wouldn't expect her to have a good day until this whole business is behind her. Still, this will be the closest to a good one 'til then, I come bearing news."

"Aw yeah! I'll start cleaning my pew-pews!"

She watched the exceedingly weird but useful bozo skitter off down the stairs in front of her. They were camping out in an abandoned HYDRA surveillance cell, available courtesy her, and, unlike the other quote-unquote hideouts they'd had in mind, it was beautifully furnished and equipped with the proper utilities and amenities. Tessa, for some ungodly reason, was using none of them, camped in front of a window staring out like the loneliest little orphan.

"I hear you come bearing good news."

"I never said it was good," Jessica pulled up a chair and opened a bottle of water. "But, I suppose you don't need anyone to say anything anymore for you to hear it."

"It was a feeling. Tell me. I need a rest from rifling through people's memories." She actually had her mask off this evening. It was a sobering sight. Jessica had no idea just how eerie her eyes were up close and the rest looked… well, the only word that came to her was haunted. Tessa had been hiding more than her identity, unless she didn't realize.

The thought made Jessica's throat dry. She sipped her water and reached into her jacket pocket. "Giotto doesn't know as much as he acts like he does, or he didn't until I set a fire under his ass. As it turns out, he's a resourceful little bugger and he _is_ important to Morris's little set up. He pushed hard enough and Morris gave him some information. I _suggested_ that they needed to prepare for an audit and Giotto needed to have their _important_ properties ghosted. Well, these are those properties."

Tessa took the paper handed to her, eyes glowing. "Nine? He has _nine_ potential headquarters?"

"Not potential, definite. When asked for a schedule for clearing them, Morris immediately demanded that they all be swept under the rug at the same time. In his frustration, he let slip that he can't know for certain which he'll need when but they're always occupied. It appears, they're used at random by Morris himself and kept as sundry other stations the rest of the time."

"You didn't speak to him."

"No, I bugged Giotto, the little prick."

"I like you Drew. It's too bad you have that situation with Barton."

Sure, Tessa was a little creepy now with the absolute lack of emotion in her voice and the red glitter to her eye, but it was highly probably that she still fucked like she did way back when with her and Jessica _and_ Clint, so… "You know, it's a flexible--"

"Alright, ladies, I'm here. The meeting can commence!" The clown, right on time, and loaded with heavy artillery.

"All those safeties better be on and there had better not be any ammunition loaded."

"I am nothing if not careless about gun safety." He dropped the guns onto the mini bar and grabbed a beer.

"Don't you mean _careful_?"

"No, careless. All of these could go off at any second and destroy this place. Now, what's goin' on?"

"You do know I'm not immortal like you two, right? I can take some hits but a bullet would still do the trick."

"This isn't one of your weapons caches, Deadpool, be more cautious." Tessa handed the list of addresses back to Jessica. "But for right now, sit down. We have somewhere to start, finally. Let's make a map."


	3. Turning Heads

"Does anyone else find it creepy as fuck that they're using a funeral home for one of their bases?"

"If it's at all possible, I think it's about to be creepier." It was the most serious Deadpool had ever sounded. Or maybe that was just the gravity lent by a whisper over comms.

Tessa had had the foresight to set him up a building away as a sniper, and not blabbering directly into their faces. It occurred to Jessica that that really only meant he'd be blabbering directly into their ears instead. It also occurred to her that this particular stake-out was going to be immensely unpleasant and Deadpool wasn't going to be the worst of it. It was never a good sign when the word 'creepy' was used in all seriousness.

"I have a feeling I don't want to ask why that's so."

"No, you don't." Tessa appeared beside her. "This isn't just any temporary base. It also happens to be the shrine for their major occult rites."

"Ugh…" Jessica shivered at the crawling feeling down her spine. "Don't say necromancy. Please don't say necromancy."

"Better than necrophilia," chimed in Deadpool.

"Luckily for everyone, they're not adept enough for necro- anything. For that kind of magic they _had_ their Hand contact."

"Yeah, while Carrie had her head. Ha!"

Tessa sighed. _"Now,_ he remembers her name… Deadpool, maintain radio silence, please. At least until you have something constructive to add."

"Ay, ay! Cap-i-tan!"

Jessica tried to tune out the whistling of _Uptown Funk_ in her ear and turned instead to Tessa. "What exactly does an occult shrine entail? Should we expect something other than what we planned for?"

"I'm still assessing that. So far, I'm disappointed. It's not the current HQ, far too few minds inside. That's probably for the best, though. I wouldn't want to attack Morris while he had all his warlock buddies on hand. And… _actually_ , if we take this resource away from him… when we do find him, he'll be that much more weakened. This works."

Jessica waited. One thing she'd noticed lately: Tessa wasn't always talking to anyone but herself. It didn't tend to be pleasant when she or Deadpool pointed that out. A minute or so passed, the whistling never actually competed a full rendition of _Uptown Funk_ but instead endlessly repeated the chorus. Tessa simply stood and stared at the building.

Finally, Jessica had to ask. "What's the plan?"

"Hmm? Same as before. This isn't the current base of operations, but we can take it out of the running. Leave him hobbled… What in the fuck?"

Down below them, probably where Tessa was staring, a series of bright flashes went off, then some smoke and what sounded like the special effects music of a horror movie started up.

"Oh… I do _not_ like that." Jessica would have sworn she just saw the silhouette of a giant tentacle.

Tessa turned towards the bank awning they'd left Deadpool on as another series of explosions went off inside. "Deadpool. I didn't give the go ahead for anything."

"That wasn't me, Anemone!"

"Then, what _was_ it?"

Jessica tapped Tessa on the shoulder and pointed down towards the back entrance. "I'm going to put my money on _her_."

The woman that stepped out of the doors should have been on fire. Flames were licking around her and out the door. She merely strutted out. Actually, nix that. The flames were licking off of her, as in, literally coming from her.

"Oooh, me likey," Deadpool crooned in their ears. "Now, that is someone worth your time, Nem. She's even a ginger, your favorite."

Tessa sighed, "I'm so over the devil motif."

Jessica noted the horned crown, friggin' pentagrams everywhere. It was a definite motif. "Uh, you think they conjured her or…"

"I'm checking…" A red boob flash and a bigger sigh than before. "Oh, no… they did _not_ conjure her. She's here to collect."

"Collect what?"

"Stolen occult objects… a few souls."

"What?" Jessica asked, probably too loudly.

"Hell spawn, that one."

Jessica's ass was sweating suddenly and there was this tiny buzzing in her ears. She hated magic, especially fucking devil magic. "What does that mean?"

"That means we stay up here out of her way until she's finished. Then, we go down there and destroy anything she leaves behind." For having just reported that the scantily clad, flaming woman down there was some kind of demon collecting souls, Tessa was remarkably calm.

"I wonder if she knows Shiklah…" Deadpool was also idiotically unfazed, but that wasn't unusual. "She definitely has that succubus vibe, you know?"

"I'm going to go ahead and preemptively say 'no', Deadpool and then suggest that you forget about it, for the sake of this outing of ours and for your danglers once you get home." Tessa leaned forward over the railing, following the progress of this demon-lady. "She is something, though, isn't she? Name's a little on the head, though. I mean, Satana? Really? She sure knows a lot of dark magic… I do wonder if she'd be willing to help us."

"Please, Te--Nemesis, let's not ask the demon woman for help."

"Devil woman, I believe would be the more accurate descriptor, Drew, but I hear you. I've had enough experience with the denizens of the hell dimensions as it is. Oh, that is a lovely portal, though. Lookit that."

The devil lady disappeared in a wreath of flame, just the smoke from the funeral home's backdoor as evidence that she was ever there at all. As they waited, there were some weak shouts and groans, but the building remained fairly quiet. No more giant tentacles at least. Jessica was light-headed.

"She's gone, I think. There are only six left inside, all panicked. This should be easy. Drew, I want you asking each of them to take you to Morpheus. Any of them that acquiesce get to live. I'll skim for valuables. Deadpool, you set the rest of the charges."

"Hey, I get to use my new block of C4! Yeehaw!" He clapped his hands as Jessica and Tessa appeared beside him and grabbed on. "It's supposed to be a spectacular brick."

Jessica paused, grabbing Tessa's shoulder before she could phase inside. "Don't you want him to use the small charges? What about the walkups around here?"

"We'll pull the fire alarms, it'll be fine. This has to look like an accident or the bad end of a deal with the devil's daughter back there. I can't have Morris catching on early that we're sabotaging him. Come on. They're already scared shitless in there, we might actually have some fun with this."

 

The raid of the shrine didn't turn up much. The pissed-off hell-witch had taken most of their valuable items and paraphernalia and left the useful magic practitioners useless. That said, one of the ones whose mind was still intact did remember a handy little tidbit about the Hand. He'd tried to trade his life for it. That didn't go so well.

Nemesis, however, was able to track down a collector from this tidbit, who archived some Hand-related literature. It was really safer for him, in the long run, not to have those items, nor to remember ever having them. Who knew when the true owners might come to reclaim them? Having also unburdened a local comparative magic enthusiast from his notes and books, Nemesis retreated from the mania of her headquarters to do some light reading.

The dock was empty by this point in the evening. The business of the pier had died down several hours before and all that was left were the boats anchored there for the night. Their decks empty, no witnesses spotted Nemesis manifest at the end of one dock. She sat, her feet hanging over the edge, and cracked open her book under the sole pier light. Minutes passed, the only sounds the lapping of water and dry rustle of pages turned. But, just because no one saw Nemesis appear there, that did not mean that some eye did not eventually spot her.

Some people had eyes everywhere and, this particular night, those hundreds of eyes had been instructed to keep watch for the woman in the red and black bodysuit. Before barely an hour had gone by, two sets of footsteps were approaching behind Nemesis.

"You know… we heard Deadpool was running with some chick these days. Didn't figure she'd be a sidekick… or so small."

The women who approached her did not appear as though they should in anyway be associated. The one who spoke carried herself like it was everyone else who was supposed to move. Her words were loudly and dripped with extreme disdain. The whole performance barely concealed the massive fractures in her psyche. Her companion was utterly silent and every movement was executed with precision and purpose. Where the first wanted to be seen, it was clear this one was more accustomed, instead, to seeing. Both carried swords. Neither wore masks. Instead, face paint seemed to be the trend between them, one's face half white, the other's chalked, a black bullseye above heavy eye shadow.

Nemesis had not brought her sword with her this evening. Her only accessory was the book on her lap, which she continued to peruse without giving her visitors even a glance.

"Don't pretend you don't know why we're here. Word is you've got some psychic juice. The boss wants more of that kinda talent on the payroll."

Again, there was no response from Nemesis. Her attention was entirely fixed on the book. This appeared to upset the first woman. She stomped over to the edge of the dock and wrenched the book away. It was shoved into the second woman's chest.

"The Hand?" Her first words, the woman in black and white sounded repulsed by this discovery.

"Shut it, Maki. … Listen, Deadpool-ette, when Fisk wants something, Fisk gets something. So, pack up. You're coming to initiation."

There was a long silence as the two women waited for Nemesis to respond. She continued sitting, however, and hardly moved. Finally, she burst into laughter, loud, unfettered, breathless laughter. It shocked the two of them enough that neither responded, not even once Nemesis began giddily chuckling, under her breath, words neither could make out. When that outburst had died down, she reached up under her mask and wiped the tears away. Despite the laughter moments before, her voice was cold and un-modulated.

"Go back to your institution, Mary. They were helping you there. The treatment was working. And Maki, you're wrong. He didn't save you, it was an accident that you also happened to survive. Now, give me my book and go back to your lives. Whether to a better one or under the sweaty dominance of that fat fuck, I don't give a rat's ass. Just leave." She turned back towards the water, her hand out and expecting the book. "Wilson fucking Fisk… That's goddamn hilarious."

The hand held out and waiting, the first woman glared at it and, suddenly, it was on fire.

"Naturally, someone had to bother me tonight. I couldn't get just a few hours alone to read." Even with the flames licking her hand and up her arm, there was still relatively little emotion in Nemesis's words. She climbed to her feet and faced them, turning her burning hand over. "Hey, lookit that. I'm fireproof, too. Better put this out, Mary, because if my suit burns away I'm going to make sure you won't remember to breathe for the next five minutes."

Shock registered even on a face half caked in white paint. It immediately soured into rage. "Cut her legs out from under her, Maki. She'll still be able to do her mind shit in a wheelchair."

The second woman stepped forward, sword drawn. Nemesis sighed loudly, her other, non-flaming hand extended. As they watched, a form flitted over her palm, a shadow in the low light, quickly manifesting as a long, black sword. The sheath clattered on the ground and Nemesis balanced the blade over her raised and flaming arm.

"Why, Maki, are you taking orders from this delusional woman? She embraces the title of a woman infamous for not washing her hands after she shit. _Embraces_ it. Clearly, you’re the more capable and less insane of the two of you. She should be taking your orders. And speaking of, since when _do_ you take orders?"

Something in Nemesis's short speech stirred the second woman. A sharp cry echoed around them as two strikes fell. One rang out, metal screaming on metal. The second fell with a snap, then a clatter. The blade of Maki's favorite sword shone bright under the pier light, in two pieces. Nemesis picked up the flap of fabric from her arm and then raised her undamaged sword even with the bullseye on her opponent's forehead.

"This is my only suit. Now, you've cut it open and you've burnt off one sleeve. I have been patient with you, because you're both victims of trauma and manipulation, but if you don't leave now I will happily fillet you for the disgusting things you've done."

The second woman glanced at the broken sword in her hands and then tossed it aside, kicking the book back towards Nemesis as she passed. "She wants the Hand. I say let her have the Hand, Typhoid."

For several moments it seemed Typhoid Mary would live up to the stubborn resolution of her namesake. But, finally, she sneered and turned away as well. "She's about as fun as that Punisher jackoff. The boss will understand, this pork-pie is just too self-righteous to take a good deal."

The woman's taunts carried on over the cool night air as she departed, but Nemesis once more paid them no mind. She simply turned to the water and doused her hand before collecting the book and opening it again. Soon, the only sounds were lapping waves and flipping pages again.

"Thanks for the inside scoop, Ms. Matsumoto, I had no idea the Hand were such sticklers for ritual… and _so many_ rituals."

 

Things were bad. Like, bad with a capital 'B', and only getting worse with every day. Clint just up and left one afternoon, not so much as a 'hey, I'm leaving to help out Cap, why don't you come?' or even a number to reach him at. And he hadn't taken out the trash first. Now, Kate was stuck, holed up in his stinking apartment, trying to keep Lucky fed, and the neighborhood from collapsing in on itself, because, hey!, all the superheroes are out punching each other on tarmacs and sticking the losers in super high-security underwater prisons. And guess who was a loser. That's right, Clint Crap-Sack Barton. At least there was one competent Hawkeye around.

All that and now there was this lady. Like some kind of serial killer with hard-on for low-lifes, she was blazing through NYC, decimating secret asshole clubhouses, and leaving behind a serious body count. And she liked swords and fire. It was a messy clean-up for the city and it was making the rest of the cape crew look extra bad. Word was Daredevil had come to some compromise with that Punisher guy. Maybe Kate could do the same with the lady butcher with terrible fashion sense. That was if she could find her whenever she was stationary for a hot second.

It had been hell trying to track this woman, even with the tips Widow had given her. She could teleport and never carried anything but a sword and, worst of all, no one could ever give any info on sightings. It was like she was covering her tracks in their brains. Pain in the ass. You can't shoot the psychic out of someone with an arrow. But, all the same, Kate was determined to talk her down or bring her in. And there she sat, on the rooftop patio of some swanky hotel, stationary for that precious hot second and all alone. Now was Kate's chance.

"Alright, she's not currently turning anyone into sushi… I'll just… talk to her." As soon as Kate aimed her grappling arrow at the rooftop, she lost the element of surprise.

Her head turned, black and red morphing like a lava lamp blobs around her face. "No, Kate."

"Ugh, creepy." As fast as she could, Kate switched arrows. A little shock to keep her in place. "I just want to talk!"

The electric fence arrow worked like a charm, splitting off and surrounding her. The static cage held, too, zapping her enough that she was still on the patio when Kate zip-lined over. "Alright, murder girl, you and I we're going to have a little heart to heart, yeah?"

"M--M--Murder gi--irl?" The weird red glow from this lady's chest was giving Kate the heebie-jeebies. The electricity dancing around her, while she forced her way through its circuit like it wasn't almost a hundred volts jolting her body, doubled the yikes factor.

"Uh, yeah. Time to hang up the sword and take it down, like, ten notches. You saw what happened with Punisher on the news, right? A murder trial will do some serious damage to that secret identity you're trying to keep. And god knows no one wants to get on Daredevil's shit list, amiright?"

Now, the glow was even brighter _and_ the cage shorted out. This could develop into a magic bomb situation. "I _am not_ one of them."

"One of them? If you mean a murderer, uh, yes you are. You're leaving a bunch of bodies behind in your crusade… that's not a good thing. Hate to break it to you, but yeah, that's a murder thing." Kate took a step back, net arrow nocked, as the light strobed a bit. She definitely should've just kept her ranged advantage, gassed her, and called in a containment unit. Stupid, Kate, stupid.

"It's not black and white. You should know that, look at what you friends are doing overseas."

"Well, it's not murder. I'll tell you that." She loosed the arrow when the lady reached for her sword. It deployed properly, but didn't exactly do its job. She, like, disaperated out of its way. "Look, all you gotta do is come with me, we'll have a little chat with some other girls, maybe get your head checked out for--"

The sword was pretty scary unsheathed. Had this Indiana Jones cursed artifact vibe. "Who are you to judge me?"

Uh-oh. Another big burst from that red flash bulb in her chest. Kate nocked another arrow just in case. "You just have to stop with the--"

"I'll stop when it's over. Until then, no one will remember I'm responsible for this--"

Kate was scared. And then she wasn't. She was confused. Why was she standing on a hotel roof deck? Why were her arrows everywhere? Why had she peed her pants a little?

This was probably Clint's fault.

"That's it." Tessa hadn't been in for a day or so. Jessica had begun to wonder if she'd bailed on them, but there she was now, looking worse for wear again. A gloveless hand yanked off her mask as she stormed over to their map. "We need to double down on these places and we need to do it even more quietly. I just had fucking Hawkeye junior try to bring me in to the second string Avengers."

"They thought you were a bad guy," Deadpool snorted. "That's hilarious-- no. You're right. It's not funny at all." He backed up when Tessa rounded on him, eyes flashing. "A gross misunderstanding, really."

"No, it just means we've gotten reckless. She made a valid point, we keep making noise like this, we'll keep getting attention. Any kind of attention is detrimental with Morris's resources."

"And you don't want to put a bug up DD's butt."

"Any kind of attention is detrimental with Morris's resources," Tessa repeated without glancing up from the map. "We have to operate with a lower profile before he takes measures to head us off. Bases three and six are gone, destroyed. We know he's not in two today. I was planning on removing it from the board this evening, but… it may be better if we sweep it and move on, check for another one. Just so we fall off the radar for a little while. Yes. That's better."

Jessica stepped forward, before Tessa fell into another of her conversations with herself. "And what about the Avengers out looking for you?"

"They don't remember now," she replied brusquely. "There aren't enough of us to maintain a simultaneous stakeout of the seven remaining bases. His defenses are too dense for us to hop to each in one night and sniff out if he's there. There's also the chance that he could move from one to another while we're checking them. Luckily, I have the counter-spells worked out for his Hand-bought magic, but… that only gives us an extra ten minutes at most. No… it really seems that we're stuck between a rock and hard place. Two has got to go, otherwise he could just clean it up and use it again. I need a… there needs to be some reason for it to be eliminated. Something that doesn't draw attention…"

Deadpool was nodding along enthusiastically to Tessa's rant, but Jessica knew it wasn't intended for him. She was caught in her own head again. So, Jessica slipped off and waited for the crazy to stop. It was beginning to make her uncomfortable, but she'd been paid a seriously huge amount of money to ignore exactly these kinds of thing and, technically, they weren't doing anything yet that made Jessica want to shout her safe word. Earbuds and e-book it was, then.

A chapter and a half later, her earbud was yanked free and Jessica was forced to return to a world where the man in front of her smelled like old bologna. "Rude, Deadpool. What do you want?"

"Let's go."

"Go where? The sun's still up, at least for another hour."

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and headed for the kitchen of the clubhouse. "Out of here. Nem-a-noodle wants a little alone time, if you know what I mean."

"Uh, yeah…" Jessica hurriedly gathered her things. One glance over her shoulder made it perfectly clear what kind of alone time he meant. There was really only one thing Tessa was going to do with a projection of _two_ men undressing. Jessica certainly wished she could make memory holograms. That would make the extreme desert-level dry spell she was enduring more bearable. "Too bad she's not in the mood for some strange. I bet archer boy would understand."

"I would pay so much money to see that, but sadly she's living in the past. I already suggested."

"Of course you did." Jessica stopped in front of the bedroom door and chewed her lip. "You know what? Why don't you tell her to knock when she's ready to go. I'm going to be in here. The door _will_ remain locked."

"You do you, J-Drew. I have some burritos calling my name. You hear 'em? _Deadpool! Deadpool! I'm delicious. Come eat me_! Hah. That would have been a lot funnier if they were tacos… or wait. No. Still funny. Hey, Spider-Lady… are you with the Hawkguy now?"

But Jessica had already shut the door and she was not going to answer it for the next half hour, no matter what. It was incredible the level of casualness that developed when three people were forced to spend all their time together. There was not even a modicum of awkwardness when they reconvened after sundown.

"We're starting with base two and then also taking out five because it's nearby. No fire this time. We'll just put down all the acolytes inside and I'll put up some warding. If anyone tries to enter it, they'll forget why they were going in there and wander off. It's not a permanent fix and it won't keep out Morris or his magic users, but hopefully it'll buy us some time without drawing attention. Plus, I'll get a little notification if it's dispelled, like an alarm. Maybe we can snare Morris before he figures out it's me. Before he sets up extra defenses. Go, gear up while I set up our Plan B."

Catching the earpiece tossed her way, Jessica followed Deadpool to the wet bar that was currently serving as their gear depot. She unplugged her goggles and began checking the stats on the rest of her surveillance tools, while Deadpool loaded literally every weapon they had onto each square inch of his body.

"So, did'ya enjoy your alone time, Spider-Lady?"

"More than you enjoyed those burritos."

"Impossible," he giggled. "You notice that Nem-a-lem-a-ding-dong's eyes are a little more… uh… not purple lately?"

Jessica glanced over at Tessa, seated and in one of her trances. "Oh, you mean the Anakin effect?"

"Yeah, straight outta _Revenge of the Sith_. Except more red. Man, I love that lava scene."

"I noticed, yes, but… no questions. I already started spending that half mil."

Deadpool snorted. "Oh, yeah. Mine's blown, for sure. I was just checking to make sure I wasn't seeing more things. Hey, pull my finger."

"No."

"Aww. It would'a just come off. I don't fart bomb ladies. Most ladies. Now, I sawed it off for nothing…"

"Are you two ready?"

"Thank god," Jessica mumbled, hurrying back over to Tessa before Deadpool's finger just fell off. No wonder the clown smelled horrible all the time, he probably had significant portions of his body that were just rotting off or something. "Yes, let's get out of here. I've got cabin fever."

Tessa transported them all to one place for once, some otherwise insignificant roof except for the fact that it overlooked a particular covered boat slip. And this boat slip only had one non-water exit, which meant no rear post, especially since none of them could fly (hovering didn't count). Unfortunately _, that_ meant Jessica had to spend the whole surveillance period wondering which part of Deadpool was going to fall off next to her.

"Shit." Or maybe not. Tessa jerked them away from the edge and then down onto their bellies. "Motherfucker called Fisk."

"What's the problem?" Jessica rubbed at her wrist once Tessa let go. "We're prepared in case he re-deployed to this base."

"Territory disputes…" This was the least composed Tessa had looked yet. She kept glancing around them like she was being hunted.

"What?"

Deadpool sighed, "what are we gonna do with these poop heads here?"

"'Poop heads'? Since when does the foul-mouthed Deadpool say 'poop heads'?"

"Since I have this daughter, see? And if I keep saying things like shit weasel and cock tip around her, she'll get expelled from school." He crawled over to where Tessa had scrambled to and was now glaring back west. "Why can't we kill the poop heads again?"

"Because someone will notice and I don't want to be noticed," she hissed back at him.

"Oooooooooh… Fisk's poop heads. I see. That means Hornhead will be here soon. Uh-oh."

Tessa clapped a hand over his mouth. "You figured it out, now shut up--You've met Morris!" Apparently disregarding her unparalleled fear of Daredevil, she jerked upright and disappeared.

Jessica spotted her a second later, down on the ground, cutting through the now swarming horde of 'random drifters' outside the boat slip. She didn't appear to be having any significant problem with them except for their numbers. As she struggled to phase around them and fight past them, the man it seemed she was after darted inside the building. Jessica also hopped to her feet and kicked at Deadpool.

"Come on, I know who she's after. Let's go help."

She jumped over the ledge of the roof, clinging to the wall and then dropping a few feet at a time until she landed on an awning. Over her head, Deadpool simply barreled over the edge and came crashing down onto the crowd, swords swinging. Before Jessica had an opportunity to hit the ground, though, Tessa's worry came true. Like a bullet, a club shot down from above her, knocking the sword clean out of Tessa's hand. It bounced off of Deadpool's head and then the boat slip before Daredevil caught it again about twenty feet to Jessica's right. She clung to the side of the building hoping she wasn't in sight. She had a reputation to maintain once this job was over.

"No killing," he shouted, and then landed on the ground. Whether he was squaring up against Tessa or the hoard of goons was hard to tell.

All of a sudden, Tessa's voice was in Jessica's ear. "Drew, grab the one I'm after. You know who it is. Deadpool, mow them down. I want inside there."

"You got it."

Jessica dropped to the ground as well, as soon as Daredevil darted into the fray. She slipped around the edges, zapping a few guys who took swings at Tessa while she was manifesting her sword back into her hands.

"When you grab Phil keep him sedate. I'm going to pick his brain apart. Oh, and Wade? Don't touch the Devil."

"I don't think that's going to be a problem." Jessica took one more look at the mayhem going on behind her before diving inside. Deadpool wasn't wrong. The man in red was on a mission, plowing a path straight towards Tessa. "He's only got eyes for you, doll face."


	4. Red and Black

As Daredevil bore down on her, punching, kicking and clubbing men out of the way, Nemesis hardly skipped a beat. The only pause she took from cutting through her assailants was a quick phase out of the way of machine gun fire, at which point she removed her ear piece. It was soon crushed, stopped from transmitting the small, concerned voice of Jessica Drew.

"Relax, Spider-Lady. Nem has this, but you gotta let her do this, or she'll for real freak the fuck out on you." Deadpool, too, had drawn back, bringing with him a sizeable force of pursuers. They were quickly dead. He cackled over the comm, "my poop heads are flushed. I'm climbing high to pick off the rest. You got the guy?"

Jessica did indeed have the guy. He was crouched beside her, whispering gross, fawning things in her ear as she peered out the door. It was just a small group of them now, moshing around Tessa and Daredevil in the center. Jessica had to give the girl credit, she had learned how to use that sword. It was almost beautiful, flashes of red and black inside the mass of muscles and weapons.

Tessa continued to skirt lightly around Daredevil, disappearing and reappearing around the men she was so elegantly slaughtering, all while not touching him at all. It was like the most brutal, gory ballet ever, where the prima ballerina eviscerated all the other supporting dancers while the premier danseur got really frustrated and grunty about not catching her. Actually, that's basically exactly what it was.

There was a moment, when a henchman almost got a hit in on Daredevil and then Tessa killed him faster, that Daredevil looped that retractable doodad around her hands. Jessica was _really_ worried at that point, but of course Tessa just phased away and cut some guy's head off in the process. As it became more intensely about Tessa and Daredevil actually fighting one another instead of fighting over the goons' lives around them, Jessica crept out of the boat slip.

"There are only two dipshits left, I could zap them and DD and we could get out of here," she whispered.

"Nah, just drag that stinker up here and let Nemmy handle this."

 

The count at this point was twenty-six dead, fourteen wounded. This woman was unrelenting and Matt had only landed about five blows on her. He certainly hadn't kept her from murdering a bunch of people. It was becoming increasingly clear that her skill set was going to require something other than his radar sense to catch. He couldn't predict where she would reappear, which made offense next to impossible, and if he couldn't catch her, he couldn't restrain her. And now he'd lost track of the man she was clearly here to get. Deadpool and the other woman he couldn't identify must have retreated with him already.

"Why are you doing this?" Matt flipped backwards, avoiding the blade he thought he'd heard whistling toward his head. But all she'd done was sheath the sword.

A few words she murmured, mostly muffled by her mask. All Matt picked out was, "--ould still get in the way."

"What?"

No response, no change in heart-rate, no breaths hardly. She had next to no scent, easily lost beside the harbor, only a tiny trace of body heat from an exposed hand. With the sword put away, she was practically silent and even harder to track. It was as if she knew how he saw things. Matt pressed harder, following the crunch of her feet. There, she wasn't completely soundless. At least she wasn't another ninja. He couldn't handle another ninja right now, not this soon.

And yet, he still didn't actually hit her. Every time he felt an impact was immanent, she melted away. If it wasn't so infuriating, he would have been impressed. Matt was wishing he could actually see and, for the second time in too short a span, it was because he was simply lost. The disadvantage was not one he particularly enjoyed.

There. A sigh. He swung for its source and actually found contact. She took the hit as it glanced off against her shoulder, rolling into him to avoid the next. If he'd been fast enough he could have grappled her against him right then. But, she was suddenly behind him.

"He's not going to stop." She was whispering to herself. Her earpiece had been smashed, no one but him could've been expected to hear that. Never a good sign. "Of course he's not going to stop. Stupid."

"Whoever you think you're talking to, they're not there. Stop this and I'll take you in, get you some help."

"Ha. Oh, no, big boy. That was just a little externalized internal dialogue. You not have those?" 

"No, that's just us!"

No, Deadpool was still on the scene, southwest roof, two accompanying heartbeats. There was at least that, if that could be considered good news. Matt really had no clue how to deal with someone as deluded as Deadpool combat-wise or, of course, in matters of logic. Two Deadpools? Not good.

After the maniac's outburst, the woman Matt was slowly suspecting to be Mnemosyne, fell silent and he lost his bead on her again. The three heartbeats half a mile away almost sounded louder than her. Then, the explosion cracked through his head. A street over, someone had just ignited a hand grenade, or something of that ilk, and had done it in the midst of multiple people, by the horrifying smell of it.

"Oops!" _Now_ she was talking. "Are you sure it was _this_ woman with a sword you wanted to tango with? I'm pretty sure there are two significantly nastier ones around these parts, who--and this is an exclusive--work for Wilson Fisk! Eep!"

She was definitely Mnemosyne. She had to be, to be able to know the exact words to drive him off course like that. Matt shook his head, willing away the ringing in his ears. "What is wrong with you? You were a pacifist, you healed people…"

She vanished from in front of him, her words bouncing off his back instead. "Things change." Another dodge, but her voice was stiff now. "You don't remember that, you shouldn't remember that."

Whatever Matt had been about to say escaped him. Another fire flared from the direction of the first explosion and he grasped for reasons why he was still there bobbing and weaving with her. He could find none. Clubs snapped into place, Matt turned to where he could actually help. "Stop killing people. You're better than that." He had no proof of that, but he had a feeling it was true. After all, she hadn't forced him to block a single strike during their whole dance.

 

Nem was not a happy camper when she poofed up onto the roof, which was totally weird because she'd just completely kicked butt down there, bobbing and weaving circles around the Double D. Deadpool skipped over to her and looped an arm around her shoulders.

"Why the glum grumbles, Nemling? All the poop heads are dead except the fuck nugget you want not dead!"

She shouldered off his arm and pointed past him. "They were supposed to hit Midtown East, instead there's that fiery chasm right there. Fuck. The memories must be degrading again… their half-life is shortening."

Spider-Lady yawned. Her adrenalin high was pretty clearly bottoming out. "Who's 'they' and what were they doing?"

It was really obvious what they had done. It was a beautiful explosion, the flames lighting up the night sky like a yule log on the fire. Deadpool would have loved to be warming his hands on the arson right that moment. Nemesis stood still, staring over at it like it was being naughty.

"Typhoid Mary and Lady Bullseye, two of Kingpin's agents on the outside, doing recruiting for him. I… rejected them the other night, but thought I could use that to our advantage. I planted a memory of a lead on me, expecting them to come after me for the snub… They went to the wrong co-op."

"You… just had a co-op blown up to distract--"

"Yes, to distract any nosy vigilantes around us… it was supposed to be a co-op farther away and I didn't think they'd fucking blow it up, Drew. I… thought they'd sneak in and earn some attention on the police scanners _with their swords_ … Fuck. And now, there's this mess in _his_ Kitchen."

"You should just tell him…" He stepped up beside her, watching the little black dot against the flames he knew she was staring at too. Poor, heartsick pretty lady. "This'll be torture when you give him his memory back."

" _If_ I give it back," she said sternly and turned her back on the pretty fire. "And since when do you have a moral compass?"

Wade had no answer for that. Actually, for once he had no words in his head as a response. He just felt bad for the pretty lady. So he shrugged and sat next to her as she grabbed fuckhead Phil's head.

"Um… I know I'm not supposed to ask, but the curiosity is irresistible. What memories did you take from Daredevil?"

"Just some stuff. Nothing big." She must have felt Deadpool give her the 'say what?' eye. She went extra Nemesis, eyes glowing and voice flat. "Man, am I glad I don't have some pretentious boy scout like that always trying to save me from myself…"

It was the worst self-lie Wade had ever heard and he'd told some stinkers. The Spider-Lady didn't seem to notice, though. She snorted, "like anyone could."

"Exactly…"

Deadpool watched fuckhead Phil's eyes roll into the back of his head and decided it was time to not be thinking about the not fun stuff anymore. On to everyone's favorite subject: murder for revenge! "So, when you corner Morris are you gonna be all FURY, RAGE, slicey-slice or you gonna have a good phrase like… hello. My name is Theresa Bisho, you killed my virginity, prepare to die. Eh? Whoa!"

Nemesis showed her appreciation for Wade's effort by shoving him off the roof.

"Hey! Everyone likes a _Princess Bride_ reference!" He shouted before the ground punched him everywhere.

Up on the roof still, Jessica cackled. Now, that was some physical humor of Deadpool's that she could appreciate. But Tessa was in a mood, shoving Phil away and almost off the roof, too. It seemed Deadpool's tumble wasn't meant to be funny.

"Nothing good?"

"It was a lure," Tessa practically snarled. "He wanted me to grab this man, he planted a memory in him simply composed of staring at him and then sneering my name. Nothing else! Motherfucker!"

Jessica jumped to the side as Tessa kicked Phil off the roof, for real this time. "It was a trap?"

"Yes. A trap. This is pointless tonight, he's burned all this planning in one go."

"What?"

Tessa waved behind her. "This place, he's not coming back to this place. He knows we know about it. And now there's _him_ \--"

"Daredevil?"

"Yes. Morris has set him on my scent. He'll probably have lures out to bring _him_ to any base we may approach. Fuck! Fuck me. Fuck him!"

"Uh… why didn't you just… make Daredevil forget?"

"Mid-fight? Please. This--It's all--This is blown for the night. Just… blown to smithereens. Go home, rest, whatever. We'll regroup and re-plan tomorrow at four. I'm out."

Jessica was left alone, feeling like she'd just stood inches from a passing tornado. "Well… that was an uncharacteristically heated outburst… and… kind of completely flawed logic-wise… I mean, she blew that way out of proportion, right?"

"I think you'd be surprised about the proportions of all this, Spider-Lady." The scratching noise to her left had stopped, meaning Deadpool had finally made it back up onto the roof. "It's all about ole Hornhead tonight."

She allowed him to turn her shoulders to face the co-op, its fire slowly being extinguished. When she blinked through the binoculars he held up, Jessica was surprised to find Tessa, propped on the top of the building, clearly watching Daredevil's labors a few floors below. "What… What does Daredevil have to do with her revenge complex? She's been weird about him all night."

"Hmm?" As insightful as he'd just been a moment before, Deadpool was back to his normal inanity. He looked up from what seemed to be a Spider-Man tracking app and shrugged. "Oh, Nem and DD? Technically, he's got nothing to do with her life at all. So, she's just dead inside now. Something inside her snapped, you know? Like if, yeah, if her heart snapped. What's the word? Oh, yeah, heartbreak, she's got heartbreak. And it's inoperable."

"Um, what?!"

"Oh, silly Spider-Lady, didn't you know? The black and red sure ain't to match our getups. It's for him. She's having a hard time moving on--oh, bingo! Spider sighting! Laterz!"

For the second time in under five minutes, Jessica was left with her head spinning. When she turned to ask her many and necessary follow-up questions, Deadpool had already barreled off in the opposite direction. "Lovely. What kind of shit show melodrama have I gotten myself involved in this time?"

 

"Well, this is it. This is the fuck brain's headquarters and, guess what. He _never_ leaves it."

Both Jessica and Deadpool leaned over to peer at the computer screen. It looked like Tessa was pointing at a movie theater. Was she pointing at a movie theater? That wouldn't make any sense. None of what she had just said made any sense with what they'd found out so far.

"A Tinsel Town, really? Spend some money and buy a _real_ cinema experience." The news fazed Deadpool exactly zero percent, apparently. What was new? He was clinically insane. He thought the color yellow had a flavor and that morning Jessica had watched him have a very long and very random conversation with a gun. He'd spoken for both parties.

"I… I'm sorry, but I'm confused. First, he's in an open, operational movie theater? Second, he's at a location _not_ on Giotto's list? And third, he never leaves this location? This… this is completely contradictory to all the intel we've been operating with. Ar--Are you sure?"

"Huh. The Spider-Lady makes some good points. I am now also perplexed."

Tessa shut her laptop and walked towards the back room, waving them along with her. "Yes to all of those things, Drew. And you're both completely justified in being confused. That is what he wanted us to be. Confused and wrong. And he had what he wanted for a while there. Giotto's information was only partially correct. When you captured him, Drew, and forced him to speak with Morris, Giotto didn't use their password. It clued Morris off that we were involved. He took his precautionary--"

"I'm sorry, I thought I had him--"

Tessa held up her hand, stopping in front of the door to their all-purpose --but mostly used for torture and interrogation-- room. "It's fine, Drew. His measures were effective because Morris is the same man he's always been, calculating and paranoid. But, he's also _incredibly_ conceited. And… last night, he made the mistake of any conceited, self-imagined mastermind. He assumed that when he outplayed us at the docks, that he had won for the night."

She opened the door and Deadpool gasped. It was a croon of glee that escaped him next, hands pressed against his face like one of those girls at a Beatles concert back in the day. "You brought us a hostage. I _love_ hostages."

"Who's this dipshit?" Jessica stepped inside the room, kicking at the foot of the unconscious man.

"Meet Greg Whittle. This fucker used to be an orderly at my old hospital. You know how the big crime lords like Fisk have a right hand man, some snake who runs his errands and manages his life, basically a dirty PA? This is Morris's. Tagged along with his disgraced mentor like the sniveling subordinate that he was." Tessa's arm, lightning quick, lashed out and slapped the man across the face. "I knew you saw. I knew you watched him."

"So… you two have a history?"

Tessa shrugged, propping the man's lolling head back up again. Deadpool tugged at his eyelids to reveal the whites of his eyes. The guy was _way_ out cold. He also smelled like Tessa may have literally scared the shit out of him when she abducted him. Either that, or this man was already dead. Leaving Deadpool to poke and prod, Tessa joined Jessica beside the double-sided glass.

"I suppose you could say that. He knew Morris was a rapist and, instead of doing something about it like a decent human being, he got off on watching it. It makes perfect sense that he'd become his head lackey once Morris turned crime boss. Anyway… Gregory here knows every little thing about Morris's operation while he's inside that theater with him. As soon as he _leaves_ the theater, he knows only the bare minimum information he needs to complete his errand and that he has a movie to see later. Upon returning for a repeat screening of _American Beauty_ , Greg again knows every little thing about Morris's operation. It's quite the airtight affair… until someone gets cocky."

"Oh! I know! I know! Someone got cocky last night, right? Morris cocked it right up, right?"

"Mm-hm. He did. Morris thought I was just going to turn tail and run once he foiled our raid on base two. He thought everything was tied up with a bow for the night and he let little Greggy cock around outside of this insanely warded cinema without scrambling his eggs."

"He let this guy leave the HQ with all the ins and outs still up there?" Jessica almost couldn't believe it. This also seemed like a trick. "How could he fuck up that royally?"

Something that sounded like a laugh came from behind Tessa's mask. "Well, you see, Morris has this outdated perception of me as someone who simply rolls over when something happens to me. He sees me as a victim still. He thought I would just take it… So, just this once, he dismissed Greg to his own devices but saved the immensely valuable chemical concoction he uses to wipe Greg's head and, presumably assuming all was well and Greg could not fuck up this unbelievably, retired for the evening to celebrate his victory. If habits are accurate predictors, Morris is still unconscious, surrounded by mind-fucked women, hard drugs, and brandy. But, then again, Greg does not usually light up a roach and hire a prostitute at the end of the night."

"He left to get high and laid? What kind of a dumbass is he?"

"That's my favorite part. Morris's fingers have been inside this idiot's head so many times, he _forgot_ he wasn't supposed to leave the theater. You see, that's how he spends most nights _after_ his forgetting-potion nightcap. He's the oversight of all oversights. Or he was. He's dead now."

Jessica winced but Deadpool nodded slowly. "Yes, I thought it was odd that he was cold and wasn't breathing and had no heartbeat."

"Why's he in here then?" For some reason, Jessica was whispering.

"Oh, that's because his brain can still hold a static charge and, when it does, I can sift through his memories _much_ more easily than when I have to go to the archives." Tessa stood and, kicking away Deadpool's chair, fucking force lightning-ed this guy's corpse. "But… I'm about done with all that. I think it's time we dumped him, don't you?"

"Oh! Oh! Pick me!" Deadpool's hand rocketed into the air. "I'll do it. Me! Me!"

"Thank you, Deadpool. Desecrate his body as you see fit. Drew, if you would, I've been meaning to see a film lately. You'd make a lovely date for my matinee showing. Accompany me?" 

 

The list of things that Jessica had seen Tessa do that, before, she would have considered impossible was truly staggering at this point. This last one really sealed the deal, though.

"Okay, is this a memory thing or a magic thing?"

Tessa, no longer looking like Tessa, turned around to her, a very familiar, perplexed look on her--or his face. "Oh, I suppose I could have manifested this form with memory. I do know Barton well enough to do it… but, no. This is a magic thing."

She was even speaking with his voice. Jessica took a step towards her--or him, hand held out. "So, is it… is it _you_ or is it him here?"

A very Clink-like hand reached out to stop Jessica, but it was Tessa's smaller palm that settled on her shoulder. "No, sweet Drew. This is just an illusion. Sorry. No Barton bits to play with here. If this goes well enough, though, maybe I'll set aside some time later to experiment with the memory manifestation."

"Okay… this is just… this is just all very confusing. For me."

"I asked you on a date. A date I will give you. Besides, Morris will have all his underlings on lookout for my real face. Might as well use a different face that you've missed… and I know well enough to emulate. Are you ready?"

Jessica buttoned up her coat and held out her hand. "Ready as I'm going to be."

"I'll put us about a block away from the theater. I'll walk slightly behind you. Drag me along like the clearly out-of-my-league knock-out that you are." Tessa took her hand and suddenly they were out in the snow, street noise all around.

It had been days since she'd been out in public, especially during the day. The eyes on them felt intense, but Tessa sauntered along a step or so behind her, in spot-on, relaxed Clint form. Or, she thought it was spot-on. It'd been even longer since she'd done anything so normal as go on a date with Clint. Before the world blew up in their faces, they'd only really experimented with the idea about three times. It was not an ideal situation.

That didn't matter, though. It was working out well enough for the current guise. The two of them stepped inside the movie theater without so much as a side-eye or a second glance. By all appearances, this place actually looked like a standard business. Teenagers worked the registers, kids were in line with their parents, a full demographic was represented, not just the shady middle aged men indicative of a front business.

It was that much more surprising then, when not five steps inside the front door, Tessa's hand yanked on hers. "Futz it, Jess. I forgot my wallet. Hah… Guess we'll just come back for a later showing…"

It looked like Clint was standing there, scratching at the back of his head, grinning sheepishly like he did when he goofed. It really did. Jessica totally bought it. "Pssh. Geez, Clint… I swear… Fine. Let's go. You owe me, I was really looking forward to a normal date without any of this… crap you attract like a magnet."

"I do. I owe you, one hundred percent. But, I'll make it up to you. I will."

Jessica picked up the pace half a step as Tessa tugged more insistently on her hand. "Yeah. Whatever. I'll believe it when I see it. We better friggin' get going though. I don't want to have to wait forever for the next train."

"I'll hail a cab… Shit." The minute they rounded the corner out of sight of the theater, Tessa was Tessa again. With the next blink, they were inside the headquarters, warm and dry. "Shitting shit. Fuck. Shit."

"What happened? No one was giving us the stink eye or anything…"

"No, that's the problem--no. I mean, that whole place… all those people were normal people. _That's_ the problem. Morris has created the biggest hostage situation booby trap conceivable. The walls are practically vibrating with magic. If I'd done a single thing even remotely memory-related or magical, the whole building would have locked down, gas would've been released and all the screens activated for a mass memory re-write. Every civilian would've been turned to his purpose-- hundreds of innocents suddenly his meat shields and zombie attack dogs, and that's not even mentioning the spell work he had primed. _And_ the theater's twenty-four hours. That place is Fort fucking Knox. Motherfucker. He's in there. I could _feel_ him in there, squatting happily in the middle of all his traps."

"Well, that's easy." They both turned to find Deadpool stepping back inside the front door. He dropped an extra-large garbage bag on the floor in front of them. "We'll just have to lure him out."


	5. I Am Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds

Deadpool's plan worked to an extent. Morris certainly responded to the mutilated body of his second-in-command being left on his back steps. His response was not, however, to take the bait and step out of his web to retaliate head on. He merely spun a larger, more complicated web.

The morning after Greg Whittle returned to work in far worse shape than he had left, the Tinsel Town's marquee bore a grand and exciting announcement. Starting that night, the theater would be hosting midnight marathons at discount prices for the entire month. Night after night of cult classics, gaudy action flicks, sci-fi/fantasy trilogies, all at half-price. That alone more than doubled the normal, meager after-hours clientele numbers, but add to that the brand new string of late-night food trucks and street performers the business attracted, and suddenly the block around the theater was a night-life bubble.

Booming night-life equaled a bigger pool of potential victims, also known as the human barricade against Nemesis and her motley crew not interested in mowing down living cannon fodder. All that hubbub also meant cover for petty crime around the block and, of course, with noise on the streets like that, that meant vigilantes patrolling heavily in the area.

So, in short, Deadpool's plan really completely backfired. The only way in which it succeeded was exposing the fact that Morris did have a soft, vulnerable center. They just needed to find other ways to stab it violently until he died.

In the meantime, this meant the three of them spent their time taking turns surveilling the premises, waiting for an opportunity to infiltrate the theater with minimum civilian exposure. Morris, though, had woven up a _really_ tight plan with this late-night business. The first evening of the stake outs, Deadpool had almost blown his cover and caused a whole scene because Spider-Man showed up. The area, now, might as well have had a huge 'vigilantes needed here' beacon shining all over it. The place was certainly crawling with them constantly after the sun went down.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd suspect Morris fucking called them all individually and suggested they check out the place."

_Maybe he hires the crooks to lure them here_.

"That's even more reasonable. Probably means he's figured out our watch-schedule."

_The Devil's most-wanted do show up every night we're out, for sure…_

Below Nemesis's feet, a line of strolling movie-goers broke apart, two or three shots echoing around as a cluster of men darted through them. A shadow followed above, in the balconies and fire escapes over the thoroughfare. She stopped kicking her feet, falling completely still as he passed. A few pedestrians called out or pointed up. Half of the appeal of this place was the chance of seeing a costumed hero. Most people didn't even blink at the fact that that meant they were also potentially going to be victims of the crime those costumed heroes were trying to prevent.

_Moronic celebrity sycophants, all of them._

"Maybe, but they're innocent… where it counts, I guess--They're not on our list, so they can't be sacrificed to get in there… _as tempting as that is_."

A tiny crackle of static split the air around Nemesis. "I'm sorry, what was that?" Drew in her earpiece. "I didn't pick that up."

"Nothing. Talking to myself."

_We should stop. They won't understand, not even Deadpool. Talking is empty anyway. Action alone has substance._

"Oh… okay. Well, I needed to check in with you anyways. Deadpool thinks it is vital that you know that you have #PMIF incoming, whatever that means."

Nemesis stood with a sigh, the lone costumed personality now that Daredevil's shadow had flitted past, but not for long. "Does he have an ETA for them? Red is off board for at least five more minutes. I may have an opening to move in."

"Uh… Dead-- _Deadpool_. She wants, hey--"

"Nemnom, Twitter was blowing up. Serious team-up sighting heading your way. Last tweet mentioned Stark Tower, so they should be there soon. Yikes… What are you gonna do? Can't the kung fu panda one, like, spidey-sense your juju?"

_Invert into me. It will mask us._

"I have a camouflage plan. Don't worry. Keep me updated."

"I'm surfing so hard, it's like barrel--"

"We'll make sure you know if anyone else heads your way, don't worry. Drew out."

With the roof quieting again, Nemesis crouched back down to sit on the edge. On the streets, laughter and conversation bubbled around, little flashes from photographs lighting the sidewalks temporarily. Alone above them, Nemesis breathed in the smell of street food and then shut her eyes. Several seconds passed, the red beacon in her chest glowed with an intensity like the camera flashes below before fading away entirely. No one had noticed her presence before then, nor did anyone notice her when Luke Cage and Iron Fist busted in on the area. Amongst the uproar of a food truck's dismantling, Danny Rand's attention flitted briefly above them, but found nothing and immediately returned to thrilling onlookers with Luke and their shared propensity for punching.

_I told you he would not find you. Stay in here, where it's safe._

"Mm. I don't like it. As soon as he's gone…"

_You're stronger channeled through me. Safer._

"It's like I'm breathing through a snorkel, I don't like it."

_Well, while you must… perhaps you should look for Morpheus. You can peer into him through me. You've done it before. Perhaps…_

"This time I can pull some strings in there, yeah…"

Nemesis fell silent again, her eyes dark, chest as well. In fact, where of late there had been a steady but subtle light from the opal, there was now an utter absence of light. It was darker than dark in the center of her chest as she gripped the edge of the roof, as she began grinding her teeth. The enchantments and curses instilled upon the theater were powerful. It was taking a great deal of effort for Nemesis to push past them.

Her trance was a deep one, she moved through the back corners of her mind, working to push through the tiniest gaps and cracks to find Orwell Morris inside that den of warding. She was almost completely inverted into herself, oblivious to the outside world. And there, she found Morris, hiding deep in the recesses of their shared past.

The room was still poorly lit from the bulb Tessa had smashed. The first time, she had thrashed. She'd been a rambunctious child, that would be quashed with time and repetition. Morris knew now, it was best to keep loose objects out of her reach. She wasn't strong, but she was still tenacious. A little fight was fun, though, for however long it lasted. But, this time she was already crying, mucus ruining the appeal. "Stop sniffling, Tessa. It's disgusting. Turn around."

This was a memory of pain. She recoiled from it, but she could also feel Morris nearby, leering at it. She had to push past. She was not that little girl anymore, this was not a thing that she feared. It simply was. It had happened and now it was in the past. And Morris was pitiful for using this moment of exploitation as a sanctuary. He was sad and he was small and she was going to take it all from him.

"How many times am I going to have to stop you from doing something that you'll regret later?"

"Hmm?" That voice behind her, it made her heart flutter. He must have been standing behind her, caught her. She'd left the door open, she should have known he'd hear her. Matt heard everything, even when she was jacking with her inhibitors. Tessa turned, stuffing her hands behind her back. "I wasn't…"

He didn't look upset. Matt never looked _that_ upset with her, but this time the smile really ruined the scolding tone. "This city already has its one killing machine, and I'm still trying to talk him down from that…" The words didn't match his mouth. Something was wrong.

"What?..."

"You've killed people. I have to stop you from killing more. I'm helping you."

In front of her eyes the light flickered out, the warmth of his apartment, the smell of tea. Instead, she was left with a view of Tinsel Town and cold air, the words of Daredevil hanging in the air around her. It felt like a bullet had ripped through her chest again, like another had found her skull. The pain was indescribable, and she couldn't differentiate the physical from the emotional. It was all just white hot agony and tears boiling from her eyes.

"I NEVER ASKED YOU TO HELP!" She rounded on him, the dormant opal bursting back to life like a sun. Down on the ground, at least one pair of eyes darted towards the roof. But up there, Daredevil only had time to lurch backwards. Her shove didn't physically make contact with his chest, but all the same, he was hurled backwards. As he flew to the other side of the building, a wave of red flared after him, washing over him as he skidded to a stop.

For several seconds, she was completely frozen, waiting for him to move again. Tessa stood paralyzed with fear, the look of shock on Matt's face marring the memory of him that had filled her mind's eye not a minute before. Then, Nemesis straightened up, her head was swimming.

_The dragon's guard dog is already half way up the stairs, the impermeable goliath not a step behind. This one is breathing. We must remove this from them and then leave. Immediately._

"I…"

He was stirring, slowly pulling himself up onto one knee. It was the expression on Matt's face, though, that gave her pause. He was in pain. "Te--Tessa? Tessa? WHY?" The crack in his voice, the tear of betrayal and pain and anger, it rooted her to the spot.

_You've restored his memories. Correct this, take them back again, and then we must leave. Now!_

The silhouette of Nemesis shifted briefly and then vanished. On his knees, Matt Murdock hurled a baton as hard as he could into the wall. It pinged around uselessly as the beat of footsteps neared. He was in control of his breathing again when Iron Fist and Luke Cage charged onto the roof.

"Whe--Where'd it go? There was--There was… an incredibly chaotic energy source up here. Probably needs to be contained, pronto-- You okay, DD?"

"She's gone." Matt heard it in his own voice. He wasn't going to be able to mask the grief. He stooped over and grabbed his baton. "She… she's gone."

"Do you… know who _she_ is? The… more we know, the more we can help…"

"You know her, don't you? I mean, _really_ know her…" Cage was on edge whereas Fist was boisterously curious, but there was no signs of personal concern on them, no marks of betrayal or panic. They didn't remember like he did. They didn't remember Tessa.

"I do, yeah… and I'll take care of all of this."

 

There was still exactly $427,563 left of the half million Tessa had paid her left in Jessica's bank account. The moment Tessa reappeared in the headquarters, practically seizing and absolutely giving off creepy red magical radiation, Jessica decided the rest of that money was not worth it. She'd been on the fence for a while now about the job, what with the evil Sailor Moon gemstone and the talking to herself and the sharp personality shift to cold-blooded killer, but the classic _Exorcist_ build up had just put Tessa in the 'absolutely not okay or safe to be around' category officially and with finality. Jessica was not redeemed enough herself to be dealing with someone else battling for the possession of their soul, or whatever. She'd seen too many of those magical item backfires while with HYDRA.

Once Tessa had stumbled into the front room and slammed the door shut, Jessica turned to Deadpool. "What's your email?"

"Spider-Lady say what?"

"Enter your email into the form there." She shoved her phone into his hands and stomped over to her room.

He appeared in her door right behind her. "Um, why?"

"Put your email address in there now. You can transfer the money back to her. This is _so_ outside my comfort zone."

"You're leaving? Right when pretty lady is having her character arc crisis?"

"Uh, yeah. I have a limit to the magical crazy I can endure, and we hit it just now. Don't worry… you can keep using this place. It's all yours." She snatched the phone back and completed the money transfer. "It's been weird, Deadpool… try to keep her safe, okay? I'm worried about her. She was a pretty decent person before."

Deadpool followed her to the front door and waved as she backpedaled away. "Okay! Don't forget to write!"

Jessica couldn't get away from that madhouse fast enough.

 

The Spider-Lady's HYDRA pad was pretty sweet. The place was pretty obviously meant to be a bunker for undercover missions, but that didn't mean it didn't have its luxuries. After she left and Deadpool transferred the money back into Nemmy's account--well, most of it--there was still a well-stocked fridge and a PS4 with Hulu. He heated up a dozen or so taquitos and turned on Ru Paul's Drag Race, settling down to browse for a proper sheath to protect the full-size replica of Blackfyre he'd just added to his sword collection.

He'd just finished all of season 4 and bought Orcrist and two Hanzo swords, all with sheaths, when it occurred to him that maybe he should check in on Nemmy. There hadn't been a peep from that room in, like, fifty-eight hours. He hit pause on the play-through and headed for the back. "I see you, Jujubee… I'm rooting for you, but later. Gotta see how my Nemmy lady is doing."

A few knocks got him no response. Either she wasn't in there anymore or she didn't want him to bug her. So, he did the reasonable thing, he tried to snoop and find out which of the two it was. The door was locked but he did find her phone abandoned on the kitchen counter. By this point, it was almost out of battery and flashing with notifications, but Deadpool unlocked it with no problem and began looking through her texts and missed calls and voicemail and email. She had a shit ton of them.

"Ah, a thing must have happened." Deadpool clearly could have been a detective with no problem. He just needed the right hat. "A thing has happened and J Jones knows about the thing."

About half the texts and calls were from an unlabeled number, but a good number of the others were from the really strong lady Nemmy had lived with. She seemed pretty upset. He played one voicemail from her and decided a _big_ thing must have happened. Then, he played the next one and knew what the big thing was.

"Oh no, pretty lady…" Deadpool set aside the phone and knocked on the door again. "Your lawyer is looking for you, Nemmy, like, everywhere. You gotta do something before he exposes you or something. You know how crazy kids can be when they're in lo--"

The door wrenched open, stopping his constant knocking. It also made him forget what he was about to say. "Deadpool. Did it ever occur to you that I did not answer the door for a reason?"

"Sure. But there was something important--"

"We are aware of the situation. It is being dealt with…" She turned her back on him, confirming that her suit was, in fact, now a solid blood red. And glowing everywhere. Maybe it was all just glowing reddish light, he couldn't tell.

"You doing that in here?" The room behind her was pitch black, not a bit of light except the little glow stick Nemmy now was. And, it smelled weird, like what Deadpool imagined the Predator would smell like after killing a bunch of aliens. "Seems a little… like you're avoiding dealing with it."

"We liked you better without insights, Deadpool."

"Uh… who's 'we'? Is there someone else in here? Are you the Queen? Ooh, my bid was accepted! Muahaha! The Master Sword is mine!" As he cackled gleefully, the door slammed in his face. "Huh… what was it I was saying? Nemmikins? Something is tickling my brain about all this, but I can't put my finger on it. Oh, well. Time for a victory six-pack. I wonder if she'll let me violence anybody tonight--oh! Gollum. That's what was wrong!"

Beer in hand, he spun around on the spot and marched right back to the door.

"Hey! Are you gonna keep sitting in that dark room and talking to the mysteriously powerful magic item like every corrupted fantasy character ever or are we going to go take your new moral alignment out for a test drive _? Something_ tells me I should be worried about dark!Nemesis, but having a chaotic evil god as a friend just sounds really super fun, too… I've never been all that tied up in right and wrong anyway, so let's just go do what _feels_ right. Brutally murdering men for sport and pleasure."

By the time Deadpool finished shot-gunning that beer, the door was open again. In the full light, he decided it wasn't her suit that had changed color. Nemmy was surrounded in a fully-body halo, like a film of dark red ectoplasm floating just over her skin. It was both gross and awesome. She stepped out into the room, her sword appearing in her hand and being swallowed by the bloody light-jelly. "Just what did you have in mind?"

"Well I _do_ have the largest stash of knock-out gas grenades in North America outside the U.S. government--and Mel Gibson, obvs. I never use them, because killing is so much more fun, but I keep ordering them… They _could_ cause some neurological impairment at too high a dosage, but that's, like, totally nothing compared to being More-fart's meat puppets, right? Let's gas the shit outta that theater and then go in and kill everybody!"

Her head tilted to the side as he talked. When he was finished, it almost looked like she might be smiling under that mask. "Yes, that'll do. Bring your whole cache. We don't want anyone getting in our way. Morris will die tonight. No matter what. Oh, and keep the rest of Drew's payment for yourself, Deadpool. We certainly have no use for it."

 

It was still early evening but, being the dead of winter, it was already fully dark outside. As fully dark as it got in the city. It was bleak and moonless that night, with a brisk wind that kept the chill in the air at a bone-achingly cold two degrees. But the freezing temperatures and few feet of snow and ice did nothing to keep people from slowly trickling into the theater for that night's dystopic future sci-fi medley. The marquee was an obnoxious neon rainbow and lit up the opposing roof, illuminating even Nemesis's suit , which seemed to be swallowing the light around her. She stood a foot or so back from the edge, a hand raised and pointed at the theater. As she mumbled hurriedly in a lost, sibilant language, crimson energy began crackling between her extended pointer and pinky fingers.

Behind her, Deadpool finished securing the tank to his back and pulled down his mask over the gas mask. "I'm Dead-pork! Get it? 'Cause I look like I've got a pig's snout under here?"

"The detection spells are disabled." Nemesis unsheathed her sword and spun it in her hand twice. "You have three minutes at most before one of his occultists notice. Don't dawdle."

With a point and a snap, Nemesis was left alone on the roof, Deadpool and his enormous sack of grenades having disappeared. Her toes just hanging over the edge, Nemesis continued spinning her sword. Each spin left another cluster of people down below her dazed and wobbling away from the movie theater. Once the only two food trucks parked there in the filthy snow had slowly pulled away, she pointed to the corners of the block.

"Let's not have any more guests wander in." For a moment, a shimmering barrier flashed around the perimeter of the theater and its adjacent street. "No interruptions… Now, for our grand entrance."

The road was eerily empty, a slash of grey and white when Nemesis appeared on it. Her figure stood out starkly there, scarlet on its dingy ice. As she leisurely strolled towards the entrance, a sickly yellow gas began to eek from the theater's doors and roof vents. The air temporarily smelled like formaldehyde and nitrous before returning to that unnamable stale scent of the city. For a busy cinema, the building in front of Nemesis fell strangely quiet.

"And now... we, the slayer Eternity, come hither to consume." A step forward, the sidewalk at her feet burst alight with sigils and runes.  "All things end, and what is left but our domain? ... Morris. Your time is up. Forfeit. You are left to us and our endless halls. Offer no resistance and perhaps we will preserve a sliver of you for posterity. A cautionary tale…"

Where the snow and ice had just melted with a flash of energy, the spell writing faded when Nemesis strolled past it. Her words echoed off concrete and brick, falling dull and dead on the glass. But, her voice hung in the air, unearthly and resonant, like it had mass and sentience, like it could cling to the darkness and stick in the crannies. As her fingers made contact with the door handle, another barrage of spells detonated and fizzled out around her, like misfired fireworks and damp gunpowder.   

"…for others to heed, dissuading the travesties you dared. Resist--and we hope that you resist--resist... and incur our wrath. Stricken from the annals of time, you will fizzle out your petty existence below our boot and be forgotten absolutely. By all accounts, you will have never existed. And, your legacy will not only have been ruined, for a second time, by a frail...  _worthless..._  unimportant woman, but it will have been utterly obliterated. In a way, the second option would be a mercy… it would avoid all these people bearing witness to your absolute humiliation."

The door thudded shut behind her and Nemesis stood alone in the lobby, dozens of unconscious bodies at her feet. The vaulted enormity of the room held her threats there as they expanded, echoed and swelled, but nothing could absorb the bitter edge from her voice. It cut through microphones and walls, all the way into the panic room twenty feet below her.

Deadpool had just landed beside Nemesis when the distant clang foretold the approach of their target. She pointed at the slumps of hair and cloth dotting the floor and jerked her hand over her shoulder. "Outside."

"Chilly out there," Deadpool commented brightly, switching off all his safeties and tossing aside his unneeded gas mask.

Nemesis stepped across the now empty lobby, towards the dull rumble of pounding boots. "Better than bullet-riddled."

"Loved the monologue, by the way. Very vengeful god. Gave me the goose pimples." He fired off the first shot, marring the forehead of the fastest and most enthusiastic. No one else rounded the corner for a good six seconds. "I'm thinking it ruffled some feathers, but in a good way."

Nemesis provided him no response. Instead, she planted herself dead in the center of the hallway that led around the corner behind which their attackers were shitting their pants. "Kveykva!" She shouted and an explosion sounded off past that corner, accompanying a wave of warmth and the smell of singed hair. A few screams followed, but mostly a floodgate of anger and gunfire opened onto her.

The men broke around her, as they always did. Their bullets careened past her, imbedded into walls or other militia-arrayed men and the para-military force itself was brought to its knees by her sword, almost invisible as she painted the walls with gore. Deadpool, as instructed, kept back thirty paces and sprayed the onslaught with intermittent heavy artillery fire. After a few minutes, the bottle neck of the hallway looked like a dressed set for a _Game of Thrones_ battle scene.

Amid the groans and the slopping sounds of squirming, Nemesis hiked back into the center of the lobby to wipe clean her sword. "You opted for oblivion. We happily oblige you this selection, Orwell. Come now, that we may visit it upon you swiftly."

"Oh, Nem, that was _so_ metal."

"Yes, Tessa, it was. I'm beginning to wonder if I squandered an opportunity by aligning myself _against_ you." The man that stepped out of the matching, untouched hallway looked nothing like the doctor he had once been. Money and vanity had changed his appearance, arguably as much as loss and magic had reshaped Tessa's. For all the drama of his name, Morris wore no villain's spandex, no prosthetics or weapons. He approached in a well tailored suit, but a normal suit all the same. It was an entirely unassuming, ordinary-looking man standing there before them.

"Enh-enh." Deadpool waved both pistols at him as he came within spitting distance of Nemesis. "If she wants you close, she'll get close."

"You certainly do not disappoint expectations, and you have excellent taste in supporters. I think we may be able to revisit our old _working_ arrangement. Together, we could--"

"You misunderstood." Nemesis held up her sword, its tip causing blood to bud from beneath Morris's chin. "Were our terms unclear?"

"Tsk," Morris clicked his tongue and leaned away from her, drawing a handkerchief and dabbing at the blood. "You've really devoted yourself to that god's wrath act, haven't you? Such a shame. Perhaps the fear demon was too aggressive, broke your mind. Don't worry, Tessa. I can _fix_ you."

From beneath the handkerchief, Morris drew a small phial and, before Deadpool could fire, broke it between his fingers. The gas within it, a wan grey, seeped out and seemed to vanish in a matter of moments, leaving Morris staring at the two of them with a smirk on his face.

"There. Now, just a few moments, a few suggestions and I'll have you on the road to recov--"

His hand had reached again for his pocket and drawn a remote, but never fully removed it. Instead it tumbled to the floor with a spurt of blood and a scream. Among his incoherent gasps of pain, Nemesis stepped up to him and pushed him to the ground. Then, she pressed her heel into his chest until he was flat on his back. Prone and pinned, his face reddened, veins pulsed, and his lip curled. The reversal in the power dynamic between them did not appear to suit Morris. Sword against his neck, Nemesis leaned over her knee and repeated herself.

"Were our terms unclear? You, Orwell Morris, have forfeited your existence and legacy. Any last words? They won't be remembered, but there are other dimensions. Perhaps these muttered prayers will salve your pain in some afterlife."

Underfoot, even bleeding and in pain, he sneered up at her with disdain on his face. It was a familiar litany he began to spit out. "You are a worthless waste of space, girl. No one cares about you and no one ever will. I am the best thing that ever happened to you. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for--" As the spittle flew from his mouth, eyes narrow and burning, suddenly the energy of his rant fell flat. Pupils dilated, his face fell lax and his head lolled. All the ire and hate that had frothed collapsed into apathy and the blank stare of amnesia.

"That's what we thought. Deadpool, collect this. We will settle the rest of his debt elsewhere more appropriate for annihilation. Deadpool? Snap out of it. That gas was…"

The sword clattered to the ground. The gentle hum of its steel against the tile floor was the only sound in the lobby. Nemesis stood rooted to the spot, her foot still firmly planted on Morris's unresisting chest. Over her shoulder, about twenty paces away and backlit in neon, waited every obstacle in her revenge plan made incarnate.

"Since when do you settle debts with annihilation, Tessa?"


	6. Look on My Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair

The muted playlist of previews looped twice on the dozens of mounted televisions around the lobby. Neither Nemesis nor Daredevil moved as his question echoed around the glass and tile. On the floor, Morris burbled incoherently and, standing between them, Deadpool swayed on locked knees. Beyond that, though, the lobby remained still and silent. Even with their masks covering their eyes, it was obvious neither was staring the other down. They were both listening, waiting.

Around the block, a car backfired. In the split second that its concussive noise filled the space, Nemesis dropped to her knees and laid hands again on her sword. As soon as her fingers curled around its hilt, though, a baton cracked into her knuckles and, again, the blade clattered to the floor. By the time the echo of the pop bounced past the theater, both figures were crouched once more, tensed to react but unmoving.

Finally, Nemesis broke the stillness. She slowly, purposefully, lifted her heel from Morris's chest and squared herself instead to Daredevil. Her sword remained on the ground behind her, its blade glittering black, and Morris curled around himself like an injured animal. The club was still in Daredevil's hand, but he, too, relaxed his stance as Nemesis turned his way.

"This doesn't concern you, Devil. Leave." Her hand open at her side, it slowly filled with the black braid of her sword's handle. "We have business to attend for which you don't have the stomach. Enjoy the bliss of your ignorance."

His head turned slowly as she spoke, his jaw locking. The baton found its way back into a holster and he stepped forward. "Whatever this is, Tessa, I know you can sense that it's wrong."

"Tessa is gone."

He took another step towards her, more quickly, hand on his billyclub. "No. Please. Just listen. This darkness that you're feeling? That I can _hear_ in your voice? It's not sentient, it doesn't control you. It's a choice. Trust me--"

"We have no time to entertain this existential discussion." Lightning fast, she sheathed her sword and rounded on Morris. His shoulders between her hands, she hauled him upright and turned directly into newly occupied space. Gloved hands caught the man's suit jacket as Nemesis melted into thin air.

Daredevil spun on the spot, now holding the limp body of Orwell Morris, or what was left of him. "You're not going to kill him. You're better than this. You're not destined to it, or chained to it. If you do kill him, you choose that. Don't choose the darkness, Tessa, please. Draw a line. Choose to stop. Please. If--"

At the tiniest shriek of metal on metal, he dropped to a squat and rolled out of her way. Twice it whistled again before the sword stuck into the tile three inches from where Morris's head had just hung. Body draped onto one arm, Daredevil hitched the billyclub towards her hands. It hit with a crack and again the sword was left on the ground. Nemesis scoffed and reached for it, this time pulling it from the tile, but she didn't vanish again. She started circling them.

"If you won't stop for the sake of your soul--for _yourself_ , stop for me. Please, Tessa. If you choose this, there's no going back for you. It only gets worse. I've seen the struggle. It's like a sickness, a cancer. I don't--I don't want to lose you too."

For all the emotion in his words, Nemesis did not pause or hesitate. She was apparently unaffected by his heartfelt pleas. Her tone was level and unmodulated when she responded. "We have no need for the drivel you pontificate, the superstitions you espouse. We will have what is ours regardless of the petty ethical dualism you dance along. Drop the body, Matthew Murdock. This man owes a price to be paid in blood and oblivion. It is we who shall settle the debt."

"You're in there, Tessa. I know you're still in there, otherwise you'd have cut me down to get to him. It's that part I--"

"We shall have him, Matthew Murdock. No one will stop us from taking our revenge upon this man. Cease the interruptions before you become collateral damage."

"No, you're still talking to me because you're not sure about this. I know you still care about me. That's why you orchestrated all this, kept it all from me. You made it a secret because you knew it's not what you should do. If it were, you'd have just argued with me until I was won over. You know, somewhere in there, that this is wrong." He had slowly backed into the concession stand area as Nemesis had circled him. Now, he laid Morris down against a wall and stood in front of him. "And you won't do this if I'm in the way."

"Theresa Bisho loved you unconditionally, Matthew Murdock, but she is no more. Remove yourself from our path before we spoil the mouth of yours that she so valued, so good at blandishments and rhetoric."

"I don't believe that, Tessa. I don't. This is not what you decided your life would be."

Her circled obstructed, Nemesis bore down on them from head-on but slowly, sword spinning in her hand.

"Please, Tessa… Don't. Tessa… Don't make me stop you."

Her approach faltered. The red aura around her flittered weakly. "Stop me, Matt? How would you-- oh…" With a sigh, the red glowed brightly again and the mask curled into a smile. "Where did you find it, Matthew Murdock? The last of the original adorns the edge of this blade."

Daredevil crouched lower over Morris's crumpled form. His hand drifted towards the pocket on his back, new and recently purposed. "Stark made a prototype. Confused as hell as to why I would want it, but amenable to persuasion."

She was on top of them at this point, but suddenly unmoving. Nemesis shuddered violently a few times, the aura sputtering around her. After a moment, it flashed dark, imploding into the lividly vibrant opal on her chest. It burned hotly there, giving off plumes of crimson magic like solar flares, but Nemesis's suit was again a dull fabric, red and black speckled. She breathed heavily for a second and it became clear they were dry sobs. The sword again fell, this time with a dull clunk.

"I'm impressed… I wouldn't have thought you had it in you to kill me, but… I'm glad. Matt, I'm glad. I'm finished now, I think…" She sunk onto her knees, not inches in front of him. "And… I don't… belong here anymore. I see that now… It explains the… emptiness… I shouldn't be here. I'm _wrong_."

There was hesitation, but as Nemesis spoke in the broken voice of Tessa, Matt reached towards her. In his hand, though, he didn't find hers. He found a knife, the knife from his pocket. Her fingers curled around his on its hilt.

"It's the cold spot, Matt. I know you can feel it, where my heart should be beating…" She was insistent, pulling on his hand towards her chest.

Matt jerked away and the knife clattered across the floor. "I wasn't going to _kill_ you, Tessa…" His voice broke over the word. "I was going to cut _it_ out of you."

"Oh…" Tessa's hand raised to the opal and let the magic melt the skin around her fingers, reforming as quickly as it was being seared off. "It was a good idea, though. I'll just… I'll just do it myself…"

Again, the sword's blade whistled, high and smooth as it cut through the air by Matt's head. It's edge was not directed to him, though. He realized, an instant too late to stop its plunge, that Tessa had flipped the sword. He lashed out, lunging to deflect the tip from sinking into her heart. The metal bit through his armor and into his elbow, stinging somehow simultaneously white hot and bitterly cold. It ground over bone and sank into Tessa's torso all the same, though. Matt heard it scrape past bone after bone, skating over her ribs, and then it caught with a crack.

Tessa gasped, a burble in her lungs, and Matt, ignoring the blood from his own arm, grabbed her shoulders. The sword was wedged in her, pressing into her ribs, sunk into the opal in her chest. And, she was convulsing in pain. "So… stubborn… Knievel."

"Shh. Shh." He held her as steadily as he could, sliding around in the pooling of blood until she was resting against his chest. "Shh. Tessa, I've got you. Shh. Don't… Not… not again… Shh."

The smell of blood was hot on her breath. She coughed and Matt could hear it gathering in her lungs. "Y--You can't… save everyone… Selfish."

"Selfish? You wanna talk selfish?" Maybe it wasn't Tessa who was seizing, maybe it was Matt shaking. Blood was filling his senses, it was all he could smell or taste. "Let's talk about selfish, yeah? Hey! Tessa! I'll show you. Watch me, Tessa… Stay awake and watch me. I dare you."

There was no getting off her mask. It was entirely sealed. And soaked wet, adhering to her nose and mouth. Matt heard the excess drip into her mouth as she laughed. "You… dare… me? … Really?" Her voice was becoming weaker and weaker. Something was wrong, she wasn't healing. "'S bad pun..."

Matt reached for the sword. Maybe he needed to get it away from her to let her body kick start. But, as soon as he touched the handle, there was a sickening crack from Tessa's chest and she let out a strangled wheeze. Before Matt could even react, an explosion sent him sprawling backwards and skidding over the floor. His ears rung still when he struggled to his feet, his right arm hanging limply as he stumbled back to her.

"Oh, thank God." She was still breathing, a dry hacking now. Matt caught her hands as they groped for her chest. The sword was gone, but the gemstone inset between her breasts was still there. Matt could feel a crack in it, though, and something like a breath coming out of it. Where before it had been a sunspot of blinding heat, now it was freezing, the trench in its surface belching out some kind of radiation. Matt tore off his gloves and felt at her exposed skin there around it. It was dry and curling. And cold. "We have to get this thing out of you. It's--"

Hands, soft and small, found his and pushed him away gently. "I _know_ , Matt…" Tessa's words were calm, the kind of calm that scared Matt. The calm of acceptance.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and almost shook her. "Don't. This is--Let me help you. Okay? What were you thinking?!"

"I… I… don't…" Despite the fact that she seemed already to be regaining some strength, Tessa wobbled in his hands. She shook her head and lifted a hand to his cheek. "You don't… want me to… answer… that."

The feeling of her fingertips on his face lasted for many moments after they disappeared. Matt knew that she had phased away but still he listened for her, swung around to feel for her. He was alone, though. There, with a brain-dead doctor and Deadpool still in some strange haze. She'd slipped from him again.

 

For the first time in weeks, Tessa felt awake. Her body was screaming with pain and her mind was spinning, but she was awake and she was consciously making every decision, moving every body part. She wasn't wading through a haze, slugging around like she was doped up. She was in control of herself again. Except for her phasing, something was off there. She de-materialized from beside Matt-- sweet, injured Matt, Matt who made her whole body ache --but didn't open her eyes again inside her office. Instead, she being was shunted through some tunnel and it _felt_ like a magic tunnel.

As she fell through the fabric of reality, exhaustion crept over her. If this was death, she was ready for it. She'd made her peace with that. At least she was dying awake and as herself, with her eyes open. The tunnel ended abruptly, though, and not with a splat or a crash, but with the re-glomming together sensation of phasing. Tessa's eyes fought to focus and she found herself in a mostly darkened room, bluish light drifting down from a sigil high in front of her. She knew the smell of the place, the spice and must of books. The crackle of candles greeted her and a chorus of sighs.

She was in Strange's Sanctum Sactorum and the good doctor stood in front of her, flanked by two all too familiar faces. Faces Tessa thought she'd never see again. She found herself laughing, the hysterical gurgle of relief and fatigue. "You come to save me from my life again? I may need to _go to_ a hospital this time, guys."

Tessa collapsed back onto the rich rug below her, devolving into a fit of giggles. Above her, Strange tutted and turned to Natasha and Clint, both standing a few paces back, their arms crossed. "We intercepted her in time. It's good you came to me, though, when you did. She is not in good shape."

"Well, at least her suit is back to normal. Right, Nat? Purple is better than red, for her… Maybe she's really snapped out of it. Because, purple really _is_ better than-- shit."

The three of them noticed the energy pulse just in time to take cover. A crack sounded from Tessa's chest and, with it, like a dying sun, the opal exploded. Rings of glowing wisps contained the blast, Strange casting aside the debris once it dispersed. He knelt down beside Tessa, picking up a shard of quickly darkening opal from the carpet. He turned it over in his hand and then nodded his head.

"Yes, I'd say so… this entity is well and truly dead now."

"What? Tess's--"

"No, Mr. Barton. Theresa is still living. The entity that resided within this gemstone is now dead. That said, I believe it's time for a cleansing." He pushed past Clint and waved a hand over Tessa.

As she gazed up at them, numb through and through, sleep drifted over her, her eyes heavy and then dark. Forty-three days those eyes had stayed open, shifting from purple to red. Now, again, finally, a light violet sparkle in them, they shut and Tessa slept.

 

Physics and mythology don't really line up all that often, but there's a kind of uneasy agreement that nothingness doesn't just turn into something. First, chaos, then--bang!--everything. There's no telling how long the swirling bowl of particulate soup existed before it exploded into order and the universe, or exactly what caused that, just that eventually it did. From Chaos, the Earth and the Sky were born. Atomic soup big banged into the universe. Any way you spin it, it's a whole bunch of next to nothing and then everything.

That was exactly how Tessa felt when her eyes opened again. Her mind had been off, had been full but quiet and dark, and then out of nowhere it was on again and a billion memories rang through her. The onslaught was a familiar sensation, though, after all. That wasn't what startled her. It was the reality of her situation slapping her immediately and brutally in the face.

Sleep had been cool, dark oblivion. Awake, she had to face what she'd done. And, what she had done felt like it was ripping her mind in half. The tears came first and instantaneously. There was no stopping them, like crying was an involuntary reflex to the reality of her life. She wept through eyes trapped staring at a gently patterned ceiling. With great difficulty, she could blink but looking away was proving impossible.

The thought that she was paralyzed shot through her, but she could feel everything. Pain throbbed gently from her scalp all the way to the bottoms of her feet. So, if she was paralyzed, she would still be able to feel all the pain of muscle death. More tears followed, these louder. And she couldn't control the volume, she couldn't even shape words into them.

"I know this is scary, Tessa. Hold on. I'll be right back." Matt. Matt appeared in her frame of vision, his hair rumpled, arm in a sling, glasses in his good hand, and then immediately disappeared.

Tessa tried turning to watch him, tried calling out his name. All she managed was a grunt and about seven more inches of ceiling to the left, where he'd disappeared to. The tears kept falling, but Tessa kept the sobbing as calm as she could, trying to listen for anything that meant he was coming back. What felt like an age later, she heard footsteps and the creak of a door. Blinking away the tears, she struggled to turn her head towards the sounds. When she finally caught sight of someone, it was Strange's cold eyes that gazed down at her, disappointment and judgment around them. Matt remained unseen, but she could feel him there, fidgeting to her left. Tessa commanded her body to thrash, to scream, to do anything. Instead, she groaned a little bit and shivered.

Strange's hands obscured her vision for a few moments, a spell quietly chanted behind them. For the briefest instant, Tessa was staring into two yellow eyes in his palms, then his hands pulled away. Strange stood still above her, a sadness in his face. "No, Mr. Murdock. This is really her. Welcome back, Theresa… You were rather far adrift there for several days. You had severe psychic shock. We were worried your mind wouldn't be able to come to terms with what you had done. I put your body into a static paralysis, to prevent you from hurting yourself and others in the meantime, but it seems that you are in control of your mind once again. It should be safe to release you."

A flick of his hand and the invisible cinder block Tessa had been straining against lifted off of her. She almost gave herself whiplash, turning onto her left side as forcefully as she did. It was worth it, though. Her eyes found Matt, there at her bedside, head slightly bowed and hand folded over his cane. There was an old armchair in the corner behind him, a pillow slumped in the seat, blanket tossed over the arm. His suit was wrinkled and his hair a wreck. He'd been sleeping there, at her bed.

Tessa felt like her chest was going to split open. Sobs shook her again, but now she could move with them. She sat up with shaking arms and reached for him, his name on the tip of her tongue, but not quite finding voice. "M--Mm…" She tried again, inching to that side of the bed, but he shifted, facing away from her instead. Tessa watched the tear snake down the side of his face and sobbed harder.

Beside her Strange cleared his throat. "Please don't mistake me. You've been inert for days, this will not be instantaneous. But, your body will respond less haltingly soon."

"D--Docccc?" She turned back to Strange. At least, he was responding to her. Maybe he would explain to Matt. "I… I… I… m--m--m--misssssss--misssstake." For some reason, it was torturously difficult to form words. Tessa could think them in her head, but the instant she tried to say them they disappeared. "M--Matt?"

"She's okay now?" He asked, still not facing her entirely.

"Indeed, Mr. Murdock. I can leave you two alone now, if you'd like."

"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you." He wiped at his face underneath his glasses and began the show of tapping back to his chair, of feeling for his belongings.

"Matt?" She couldn't manage other words, but his name Tessa had down. For all the good it was doing her. He was still leaving her. "Matt?!"

Strange sighed heavily. "I really would suggest trying to keep yourself calm, Theresa. You're going to be struggling for a few days. It will be easier for your mind if you don't stress it emotionally… Please, Mr. Murdock. A few minutes with her?"

The tone of Strange's question stopped Matt in his tracks. He straightened up again and, jaw tensed, nodded. He set back down his bag and suit jacket before reaching for the bed and lowering himself onto it beside her. Strange turned away with a shake of his head as Tessa began weeping again, this time into Matt's chest. She pinched shut her eyes and leaned into him, almost collapsing when his hand ran through her hair.

"I know. I know you're scared." Really, it was Matt who sounded scared. Scared and out of sorts. But he held her there, even hunched around her when the door suddenly flew open a moment later.

"Really, Ms. Jones…" Strange growled and stepped back from the flail of limbs now in the doorway.

After a moment, Luke ducked into the room and set down Jess from the bear hug he'd snatched her up in. "Girl, you have _got_ to calm down. She just came out of a coma!"

"Theresa is in a delicate state. A little more caution would be appreciated."

Still scrunched between Luke's hands, Jess struggled a little more, glaring daggers at Strange. "You wouldn't let me up here before because you think I'll _hurt_ her? Goddamn. I'm not gonna hit her or anything! I just--I need to see her!" She shouldered her way out of Luke's grasp and rushed around to the other side of Tessa's bed. In a breathless flump, she scooped Tessa, mostly limp and unresisting into her arms.

Tessa didn't struggle or fight against Jess. She knew her best friend wasn't going to hurt her. But, she did turn to watch Matt as he stood again from the bed and shuffled away. Jess was squeezing her, she couldn't reach for him.

"They said you were awake and saying real words. Is that true, babe?"

With a deep breath, Tessa tried to answer. "J--J--J--Jess… I--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, chica, you had me scared shitless." She squeezed her again and laid Tessa back on the bed, only to stand up and tightly cross her arms. "How could you do that?!"

"Jessica!" Danny stepped forward from the corner he'd been skulking in unnoticed. Luke held a hand out in front of him, though, and shook his head.

"Man, now is _not_ the time…"

Tessa's eyes darted wildly around the room. She couldn't answer Jess, she didn't have the words, and no one was looking at her. No one would answer for her. So, she pulled her knees up to her chest and sunk further into the bed, submitting to the only thing she could do with proficiency, crying.

"How could you to that to _us_? We were family, you and I. You were my family and I was yours. How could you take that away?"

"So--So--Sorry. I…I… wa--aaaassss… tr--trrr--try…" The words were fighting her. Her brain was fighting her. Tessa panted at the effort of those sad four words and grabbed at her head. "Sssaaa--Ssaaaaafe… you. Safe you! Safe you!"

Watching the confusion bloom into pain and pity on Jess's face hurt. Not being able to say a simple sentence hurt. Seeing Matt trying to hide tears hurt. Feeling what she'd done to them hurt. Everything hurt. Tessa mouthed words that never came at Matt as he gathered his things and inched towards the door. She pointed wildly at him as Jess watched on helplessly.

"Excuse me," he muttered and slipped behind Luke and out the door.

"M--Matt!" She flailed a little, but the room was lost between awkwardness and surprise.

After a moment, Danny sighed and grinned weakly at her. "I'll get him, Tessa."

"No, Danny. _I'll_ get him." Luke shook his head at his friend, shoving him back and into the wall probably harder than he'd intended. Danny picked up a fallen picture frame and re-hung it as Strange rolled his eyes with a sigh.

This whole situation was a clusterfuck of awkwardness. And Tessa couldn't say a damned word to help clear it up. She felt the most helpless she'd been in a very long time.

"Tessa, babe…" Jess's voice was crackly and soft, somewhere on the edge of an emotion that wasn't shouting or sarcasm. " _I_ could'a kept you safe. I could'a saved you from this. Why didn't you just _ask_ for help?"

Sign-language wasn't even coming to her. Tessa was stuck digging for words with a spoon instead of a shovel. She closed her eyes and pulled on her hair as she waited for them to come to her. "You… you… you… able… to… to… to… st--stoooop--stop life. D--D--D--D--Dea… D--Death."

"I wasn't going to die, Tess."

"You was going to die!" The anger and fear flared up in her. It wasn't what she'd wanted to say, but she could borrow recent words a whole lot more easily than making her own, and the emotion had helped. "H--He was going to die you! Allllllll--All you!"

"Theresa, please…" Strange stopped at the foot of her bed, forehead gathered. He watched her for a moment as she gasped for air and wiped the sweat from her upper lip. " _Please_ , try to relax. The focus you were using had begun to assimilate many of your mental faculties into itself. Your speech center was one of them, and when the opal was destroyed your mind lost touch with those faculties. _However_ , they're not totally nor permanently lost. You will recover them with time and patience. You just need to stay calm and let your body do its job to heal you. In fact, I have a charm for this, hold on…"

As he swept from the room, Tessa turned to Jess and grabbed her by the shoulders. The words weren't there immediately, so she stared her hard in the face and attempted some mix-media communication. "S--Sorry. You…" Tessa pointed at Jess's forehead and then shook her own head hard. "Sorry."

"I know you are, babe. I know…"

"Th--thought it was… life… or d--death."

"I know…" Jess gently collected Tessa's gesticulating hands and set them in her lap instead. Propping up the pillows in her best impression of a person who could take care of herself and someone else, Jess straightened up the bed and then sat back down. She caught Tessa's hands one more time and squeezed out a very Jess grin. It looked like someone had wound up her mouth like that and now it was stuck. She pulled out a phone from her jacket pocket and tucked it into Tessa's hand. "Here, catch up on the world, if you want."

There wasn't any time for Tessa to even open an application before the tapping of Matt's cane was heard out in the hall. She sat up a little straighter and even tried to swing her feet off the bed, but Jess stopped her and wedged her back into the pillows. By all appearances, he was fine when he entered the room again, Luke a step behind. Those glasses hid a lot, but his jaw wasn't working or shaking like when he was upset, his knuckles weren't white around his cane. That said, his movement was stiffer than normal, chin higher, hand in the sling reaching for the wall. He wasn't listening, he wasn't feeling the world like usual. He was playing his blind role as thoroughly as Tessa had ever seen him. Tessa knew there were other factors at play here, other onlookers, but she began to wonder if he would ever be comfortable enough with her to be himself again.

A few steps inside the door he paused, cane sweeping unimpeded in front of him. Luke leaned against the door frame and mumbled, "bed's straight ahead."

"Thank you." He nodded to Luke and moved forward, stopping at the foot of Tessa's bed and then feeling along the edge until he found her hand. Thumb running over her knuckles, he sat down again. This close, the calm of his face was clearly a façade. His stubble was still wet from tears, the corners of his mouth tucked. "I shouldn't have left just then… that was callous."

As he scooted nearer, Tessa led his hand to her face, her eyes closing at his touch. There were so many emotions flooding her and not enough words. After that moment of indulgence, though, she had to at least try to speak. There were certain things that just had to be said, no matter how much they would hurt. A cut of her eye to the corner, told her Danny was still in there, watching with a mixture of sympathy and melancholy on his face. This was about to become unavoidably uncomfortable.

"Matt… I--I'm sorry. It was a… mmmmissstake. I…I was sc--scared. … … … You a--all know? You… you… you," she sighed unable to come up with the word. "You know a--a--agaaaain?"

He winced at her struggle, then smiled weakly to cover it. "We know everything now, yes, Tessa. Um… when the focus broke, everyone… everyone's memories of everything returned again. So, we remember. Apparently, Dr. Strange intercepted you when you… ran? Danny Rand found me and told me what happened."

Tessa cut an eye Danny's way. He shrugged sheepishly, contrition dripping from him. Her heart sank. "You _… know_?"

"Yes," Matt replied quietly, his mouth ticking as he did.

He wasn't pulling away, but Tessa couldn't get any kind of apology or explanation out fast enough, so she cupped his face and ran her hand over the back of his neck, over his shoulder, anything to keep him close and to express her affection. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Matt? I'm sorry. I… I… I… I broke everyone's… I broke… I broke… ah!"

When she pulled away and grabbed at her head again, any semblance of calm Matt had been maintaining broke. His cane hit the ground, both hands feeling for her shoulders then hands and face. Tears were slipping from behind his glasses, face crumpled with pain and grief. "It's okay, Tessa. It's okay."

But she kept clasping at her head, tore at her hair. "Ah! Broke! Broke!" She touched his face, fingers light over his brow _,_ then pressed her palm into his chest, her lip trembling. " _Broke_."

Matt nodded, chin similarly shaking, but didn't manage any response. Behind Tessa, Jess glared across the room, looking like she was daring anyone to say anything so she could crush their face, the first person to say something out of line. When no one did, she leaned over. "Broke what, chica? Uh… trust? Heart?"

"Broke hearts all… over."

"Hurt our feelings?"

Tessa sighed deeply in relief. "I'm sorry I hu--hurt you allll… and… broke t--t--t--tr--trust."

Matt kept nodding, his hand finding its way to her chin and over her jawline. His head was bowed slightly again, now he was really listening again. It might as well have been just the two of them in the room, staring into each other's eyes. Then, the small cough came from the doorway and Matt jerked back upright again.

"Ahem." It was Strange. "Tessa really needs to rest some more. Alone. She'll be able to talk more after her mind has been allowed longer to heal."

The room milled at his words and Matt stood, pulling gently free from Tessa's hands. She tried to ask him to stay but instead let out a whimper. He paused and quickly leaned back down to kiss her. "I'll be back…" It was chaste, barely a brush of their lips, but it spoke volumes.

Tessa relaxed back into her pillows as he hurried from the room, far more nimble than he'd pretended on the way in. Luke had already slipped out, but Danny was hovering at the doorway. He made eye contact and offered another sympathetic frown, then darted out.

"Uh, Matt? Can I talk with you?"

If there was a response to that question, Tessa couldn't hear it. She turned and tugged on Jess's hand. "No, no! Mistake…"

"They've already talked, chica. A lot. That cat's out of the bag. No shoving it back in…" She too stood, drifting towards the door under Strange's impatient stare. "Danny's been trying his best to explain and smooth it over. They're… They don't seem to hate each other."

"Matt is hurt?"

A nod, hand resting on the foot board. "Yeah, I think so. He hasn't lashed out at Danny or anything, but… I've seen that face a bunch of times. Clients make that face when I do the job they ask me to do. I'm sorry, chica…"

Everything was painful. Tessa curled up on her side and whispered, "I am the mistake."

"No, Tessa… You made some mistakes, but you aren't one. This will all pass. We'll all heal… See? I'm already over it." She reached down and squeezed Tessa's foot. "Get some rest. Get better. You know I'm no good at this nice thing, not for long."

The light switched off as Jess slipped past Strange, his silhouette filling the doorway briefly. A few nonsensical words of his drifted over, smooth and resonant, and Tessa felt her mind go squishy. Again, sleep took Tessa and oblivion relieved her of her pain and guilt. 


	7. Bedside Chats

The smell of cinnamon woke Tessa from an utterly dreamless sleep. Spicy and sweet, with a little hint of bright citrus, she tasted a memory of the smell before she even opened her eyes. The lights were out in the room, just a block of soft yellow glow cut across the bedspread and side table from an open door. Through the semi-dark, Tessa could barely make out the source of the smell, steaming on the bedside table. Uncurling from the tight ball she'd been sleeping in, she hoisted herself onto an elbow and grabbed the teacup.

It was still quite hot. Someone must have just left it. In fact, they were probably still in the room if the light flutter of paper behind her could tell Tessa anything. Sure enough, when she rolled over, Tessa found Matt, side-lit by the open door, fingers skimming over pages on his lap. His jaw twitched a little as Tessa sat up, but he otherwise pretended not to notice she'd woken.

She took a small sip of the tea and watched him read. His shoes were off, shirt sleeves rolled and wrinkled, and sling for his arm unhooked. He'd been there for a while, bless him, camped out in that ratty old armchair. And this tea, he must have brought it from his apartment. It tasted exactly like the orange chai she'd had there. Clearly, he was invested in making sure she was okay, but his demeanor was cold. There was no way he hadn't heard her wake up, and yet he continued reading, forehead knotted and lips pinched. He was hurt, hurt and angry. Tessa didn't blame him.

"You hate me?" She whispered.

Matt's hands stilled. His steely expression cracked and then broke. "No, of course not."

"I hate me… You should hate me."

"You sound better," he said softly, closing his book and setting it aside. "How's your head?"

"Um… not clear, not quite. Matt, I was… not… right? Uh… un--wrong… I was wrong and I'm sorry."

"I know, Tessa. I know." He gently pried her hand from the hair she'd been tugging at, tucked it around the teacup as well, and then sat down beside her. "I forgive you but… You… You scared me, Tessa."

"Scared myself… I'm _broken_ , Matt. I'm scared I broke something inside myself… maybe for… for forever. I--I tried to _kill_ myself."

"I remember. I was there… though, I don't think that's really what you were doing. And, I don't think you're irreparably damaged. I think--hey." Fingers softly caught her chin as Tessa began curling into herself. Matt took off his glasses and his eyes eventually found her face again, just honey brown in the low light. "I think that that was your way--the real you--of fighting what the gemstone was doing to your soul--or your mind. Something just got lost in translation while it was still feeding off you. The way Dr. Strange explained the situation, that made the most sense to me. And, I would know, I… _watched_ it happen."

"You stopped it from happening, from me killing myself. With your arm. Is your... is your arm--"

He pulled his elbow away from her, but otherwise stayed close. "It's healing. It was a clean cut. Claire stitched it up. Everyone thinks I tripped in a bathroom. It's fine."

"Matt... I... I'm so... so... so sorry. I just wanted it to end. I wanted to run from… the things coming from… the results--the _consequences_ of all the… the… things I've done. I did it, I did all those things. It was me, Matt. All those mistakes were my mistakes. No one made me make them."

He shook his head. "I don't believe that. Maybe you chose to do the first few things but, once that thing latched onto you, it began consuming who you are, voraciously. It had control of your mind, it was corrupting you, Tessa. From what Dr. Strange has pieced together, you hadn't been wholly yourself in almost a month."

Tessa felt her lip trembling. Matt was trying so hard, trying so desperately to sell her on the lie they'd been telling themselves about her, that she was better than what she'd done. Tessa knew the truth, though. She could feel it in every memory. She was exactly as despicable as each horrible thing she'd done and more. Every decision that dropped her down into that pit, every one _she_ had made in the end, opal egging her on to do it or not. She didn't deserve their forgiveness or their excuses. She deserved their hate and disgust. Matt should have been furious. He should have been repulsed by her, had withdrawn from her. And he certainly shouldn't be consoling her, so sweetly, so patiently, like he was then with tea and kind words.

"I was myself when I slept with Danny." It hurt her to say it to him at all, but especially so coolly. And it should hurt her, because it was definitely going to hurt him.

As expected, Matt cringed, but still he soldiered on with a sigh. "Maybe the first time, when you were… grieving me."

"He told you that? He told you what I said to him?"

Matt reached for his glasses again, but didn't slip them back on. "Danny? Yes, he… he told me quite a lot, in excruciating detail, actually. I think he feels guilty."

"It's not his fault at all. It was all me. He didn't--I didn't tell him until after. He was a… a… a something! I did that _to_ him."

"I know… Again, in _excruciating_ detail, Tessa. … He's a good person, really. I understand why you went to him, but… my question is, why didn't you just come to me?" There he was. All of Matt in one sentence, the insightfulness, the vulnerability, the jealousy, the conviction. He was finally letting her back in.

"I knew you… you would… try to stop me. … I knew you didn't agree, but I was… Killing Morris was… everything in my head."

"You were obsessed."

"I was obsessed, yes. I wasn't… I didn't want to let anything get in the way of that obsession. It was all I cared about. I was selfish and dangerous."

"You were vulnerable and hurt. Someone had preyed on you for years and you were tired of that, that's what you were. You thought you saw a solution, I understand, but if you'd just--"

"No. I was obsessed, selfish, and reckless, Matt. No excuses… And then, Elektra--"

He inhaled sharply, but then sighed, nodding for her to go on.

"--I felt her in your life and… I just want you safe and happy. Being away from my problems while you were… uh… doing things about your problems was easier. It seemed like the easier, safer, better option. And, it kept me off your radar."

"So… you made me remember being with Karen all those time I had been with you? _Tessa_ …"

She curled her hands more tightly around the teacup. It was becoming harder to look him in the face, her words were coming more slowly. She had to pick them carefully. "No… First… I just took myself away. But then… your mind was… it wasn't accepting that. I had to… to make memories to help it accept the changes. … I didn't want to break you."

"You were still yourself," he sighed, dropping his face into one hand. "See? This is why… I _know_ you did what you did because you thought you had to. You thought this was the right thing to do, and you thought Morris was some unstoppable force of mass destruction. It seems that… maybe, he was on his way to that. … We'll talk about… all the men you killed and why… you killed them. Eventually. Right now, though… I love you. I'm furious and heartbroken, but I love you. All the rest… can wait."

"I love you, too… but, Matt…"

Conflict scrunched his face, but he shook his head and reached for Tessa, finally _looking_ at her, finally running his fingers over her cheeks and lips, through her hair. "I know why you did it. I understand--I _don't_ condone… but I understand it and I love you and we can work through this… with time and patience and… a little space, I think."

There was a desperation to his touch now, like he was clinging to her after trying to ween himself. If there had been a moment when Tessa could have simply pushed him away, she'd lost it. "Matt? Matt. I've broken this. You know I did. I broke what we had. As much as you want to convince yourself otherwise, you don't trust me and you shouldn't--"

"Tessa, I am a bigger man than--"

"I have feelings for Danny Rand." The sentence didn't have the effect that Tessa had expected. Matt's face hardly changed.

He merely paused and put his glasses back on. "I know… You--Your heart raced when he came in… even before you were fully conscious. That's… that happens. I have--had feelings for Elektra still and Karen, too, if I'm being honest with myself. It's a reality about almost everyone I have to learn to face and accept…"

"I have a problem, Matt. I want both of you. I want both of you at the same time and, if I can't have both of you--"

"You're lying," he muttered, shaking his head. "I can hear you lying. You _know_ I can hear you lying. Why? Why are you doing this? Are you trying to hurt me to end this? Because you're going to have to try a lot harder to hurt me like--"

"Trying? I have hurt you! I'm hurting you still and I'll just keep hurting you! Somehow, I'll hurt you again. I don't want to, but I will. I'm immortal, but I'm still human. I don't change, but I'm still an imperfect human being, supped up with ultra-human powers and just barely hanging on by a thread with them. I'm a walking bomb. I'm here forever, eventually--probably sooner than later--I'll make some other crazy ass mistake. I'll… stop… stop sleeping again or something, and I'll go off the deep end and hurt you again! You… You only have so much time on this earth. I don't want those precious few years ruined by me fucking them up!"

"You're--You're not _fucking_ my life up, not by a long shot. I can do that all by myself, thanks. And--Tessa…" He waited until she looked back up at him. "Do me a favor-- don't hide behind your guilt and use it to push me away. That's my move. I…I practically have it copyrighted and I'm… I'm basically immune to it."

With his grin salving the pain between them, Tessa felt compelled to only shove harder. He wasn't going to quip away the very important message she had to hammer into his stubborn skull. "It's more than guilt. I am guilt-ridden as hell, yeah, but… I'm also broken, Matt… Me _, I'm_ broken, splintered into a million little pieces. I need to put those pieces back together and I don't expect you to wait around while I do. It wouldn't be fair to think that you would."

He was still smiling, that soft, compassionate smile. "Or, I could help you. I could give you some space until you're ready, and then, I could help you, Tessa. Pushing us away was what really allowed you to spiral out of control this time."

"I wouldn't push everyone away, Matt…"

"Oh…" His chin tucked, hiding whatever reaction he was having. "Just me…"

"I can _see_ you aging, Matt. Still. Morris cursed me with that permanently, it seems, but what I can see isn't any more or less true because of him. Everyone I love and care about is going to leave me behind and I'm going to have to stand by and watch and _remember_. I know that this is my life and I have to come to terms with it, but… I don't have to _watch_ everyone on a day to day basis. Everyone but you goes off and lives their own lives. But, you… with you, Matt, it's the most… severe because you've made me part of your life. Not just an instillation or a roommate, but… part of your life and what you want it to be. I can't…"

"Tessa. I'm--"

"No, let me finish. I can't be that commitment for you in good conscience. I can't be what you want from your life and I can't hang around and watch myself wasting your time--the literal time in your face and body. I can see you aging and it's destroying me… I… I can't watch you die, unfulfilled, in front of my eyes because I was selfish."

"First, I'm not dying, Tessa… I'm gonna be fine for… for a long time, God willing--"

"But I'm here _forever_ … and I can't change. I don't want to hold you back from having a… a full life. A life with all the things you want… _all_ of them."

Matt slipped off his glasses again and took both Tessa's hands between his own. "I love you. That's not changing either… I'll… I'll stop being angry, and I'll work through my jealousy, and I'll continue to love you, even if you leave. But, the life I want, the _full_ one… has you in it still."

Tessa sighed, but had no other words. She'd said them all and he was still stubbornly refusing to accept them. It was a struggle not to give up as he kissed her hand, then her wrist, and then her lips carefully, tenderly. She could continue this kiss and accept that he'd forgiven her, that they could move on and pick things up again. It was tempting. She could feel the heat behind his lips, the need, but, as much as she wanted to reciprocate it, she also felt a memory, just barely connected with it, that brought her bitter clarity. The excitement during a scare, as early as it was, the disappointment that followed, a desire he'd never verbalized but still felt. There was a life that he wanted that she couldn't and wouldn't give to him. It was cruel to pretend that wasn't a problem, even for the briefest indulgence.

"You should go," she murmured as she gently pushed Matt away. "I'm not in control right now… I don't want to do something I'll regret."

He sighed but stood, fingers trailing over her wrist. "I'm basically unemployed right now… I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Tessa watched him collect his book and leave. Her body was on fire, despite the anguish she was feeling. Yet another problem he didn't need to deal with. She'd rest. Find more words. Make him understand another time, when she was less inclined to take off their clothes and disappear into primal satisfaction instead. For now, she had to find a way to see her future without him, without descending into rash decisions and hedonism to compensate for the hole he would leave.

 

 A knock at the door sounded a little while later, before Tessa could actually drift off to asleep again. She picked up the nearly overturned teacup from her stomach and hitched herself back up into a sitting position. "Uh, yes? I'm awake… I guess."

The door creaked open, just a crack, and a band of light spread over Tessa's face. For a second, she was a little blinded by it and didn't quite believe who she saw standing there. When the lights in the room flicked on, she almost laughed to herself. "So, I didn't hallucinate you two. You're alive… and back here."

"Alive, yes, though… not officially back here." Natasha stopped at the foot of the bed, a small frown on her face. "Technically, neither of us are here according to any intel. I'm a ghost and… Barton is supposed to be in prison."

"Cap bailed me, but yeah. I'm not here." Clint had already slouched into the armchair in the corner.

Tessa looked between the two of them. She didn't really have any idea how to react or what to say to them. "If you're not supposed to be here, then why are you? Not--Not to sound… uh… something…" She scoffed and shook her head.

"Dr. Strange said you were experiencing some aphasia. Hmm. Well…" Natasha swung around the corner of the bed and sat just on the edge. "Let's hope that clears up quickly, for your sake, obviously, but also because… we are secretly here for a specific reason. What have you heard about… the conflict amongst our community?"

"Oh, you mean the… the… cr--crazy super… people war? Oh, yeah… next to nothing because no one would tell me anything… uh… beefy--no, substantial, and then, I swan dived into a pit of magic and mistakes where my… my… my… narrow--tunnel--my tunnel vision… cut out… blocked out--something-ed anything not my obsessive goal of killing a man. Why? Are you here to… to ask me for help? That would be… uh, what's the word?-- rich. That would be rich. In case you haven't noticed, I'm currently… stuck in bed… there's a word for it… uh… bedridden. And a danger to myself and everyone around me, probably… you'd be… doing better--you'd be better off going somewhere else."

Clint scoffed and, climbing out of the chair, shoved her over to sit down on the bed. He looped an arm around her shoulders and set down the paper cup of coffee dregs he'd been nursing. "Hey, Tess… we know you're about forehead deep in some personal shit right now and, trust me, I know that you've earned the pity party you're going to throw yourself. I could help you with the decorations, I've thrown my fair share, being the poster boy for fuckups and horrible life decisions that I am. But… this isn't about _us_. We're here doing a favor for someone else. Also… we were worried about you. You looked like trampled shit when we found you."

"You found me?" Tessa asked, considering the lack of expression on Natasha's face. She scooted over farther as Clint kicked up his feet. "I'm pretty sure that, when I got sucked into Strange's magical… vacuum thing, it was while I was phasing away from a place where you two certainly had not been. I'd have remembered you being there."

"No, we weren't at the cinema. We had, however, been remotely tailing you for a few days. Jessica Drew indicated that that would be an expedient course of action."

"Oh, thank you, Drew…" Tessa let her head drop back onto her pillows. "So, she bailed on… crazy-me, and then found you and filled you in on my spiral into madness?"

Natasha gave a tight little nod. "More or less. It took some convincing but, by the time… your memory revisions had been removed, we had already sought out Dr. Strange's help. Drew's adamancy certainly warranted our attention at the least and I had, if you recall, actually been tracking the disturbance your alter ego had been causing. It all pieced together a little too neatly in the end to be coincidence."

"My uh… grasp on reality wasn't exactly… tight--firm by that point. Things were getting sloppy, yeah… Okay, so… you helped me and now you want me to help you?"

Beside her, Clint snorted and sat up. "She's clearly in a mood. Let's come back later, Nat. Not to say that you haven't earned that mood, but… we're still just us, Tess. You don't need that ten foot pole you're keeping us away with. We're not here to screw you."

"That's… not why I'm… being this way," she said quietly to her hands. Being an asshole was working with them, but Tessa hated the way it felt. And the lie was exhausting. "I'm sorry… My life is… fucked right now. I don't know how to talk to anyone anymore. It… has nothing to do with you. How, uh… How can I help?"

"It's actually right up your alley, Tess." Clint leaned back again next to her and pulled out his phone. "See, and this is obviously a secret, but… we saved Barnes."

"Rogers saved Barnes, Barton," Natasha corrected.

"Yeah, Cap and his intrepid team saved Barnes and right now he's on ice in Wakanda, in Black Panther's top secret science facility, actually--"

Tessa shook her head. "The Panther wanted Barnes dead, I thought."

"Bunch of misunderstandings. It's all cleared up now. Important thing is, Tess… Cap asked for your help personally." Clint set the phone in her hand, a coded message on the screen. From the foot of the bed, Natasha held out her phone as well, a codex on hers.

"In case you don't trust us," she said softly, green eyes cutting through Tessa.

After a moment of flailing from the deep-seated guilt that comment had kicked up, Tessa took both phones in hand. It was a simple cipher with the code. Sure enough, Steve Rogers had explicitly requested Tessa's assistance. "Expertise is a… a strong word…"

"Tess. You're the living embodiment of memory. If you don't have an expertise in it, nobody does. In anything. When he heard you were back on the board, he immediately asked us to come to you. Cap wants you, Tess."

"Barnes has undergone extensive cerebral restructuring. The brainwashing was decades long and ruthless. Rogers is most concerned--and Barnes himself-- with the sleeper contingency put into place, understandably. Any triggers that remove his mind from his own control need to be neutralized before Barnes can be trusted off the ice. He needs intensive and possible recurring memory therapy that only you can really provide at this point. Medicine certainly hasn't caught up with what you can do, or the damage HYDRA inflicted."

Clint leaned forwards so he was eye to eye with her. "Look, we know you've got your own shit to deal with here. That's not something we're asking you to just up and abandon. This won't be permanent either, just a quick trip. Use it to put some space between yourself and this business or clean up your mess first and then come over to help. It doesn't matter so much when you do, just that you do. Barnes won't know any different."

Tessa handed back both of their phones. "Obviously… I want to help. I do. But… I'm kind of… stuck here. I'm not well and… needless to say, I don't think I'll get clearance to leave. I don't even know if I'm going to be a free woman once I leave Dr. Strange's sanctum. I broke a bunch of laws… I'm… I'm in trouble."

"We're taking care of that. All of that." Natasha waved her hand. "It's up to you whether you come to Wakanda or not, but either choice you make… you're going back to your normal life in the end. We owe you that much and we can agree on that. All of us, Stark included."

"Wow… um…" Again, Tessa was at a loss for words.

So much was happening. She could hardly keep any of it in line, but one thing that Clint had said was ringing clearer with every second. It was selfish, but she could use this trip to put some space between her and the heap of broken relationships she had here. This was the break she might need, to leave the country and get away from everyone she'd hurt until some healing had taken effect. And, if she could do something to help the rift in their community that they hadn't allowed her to help prevent, she would be even more of an idiot to let that opportunity pass by her. Maybe she could even leave and come back with a different perspective, a clear head and a fresh eye. Maybe she would stop seeing them age.

She took a deep breath and looked Natasha in the eye, really, for the first time. "I need to… to get… healed more. Uh, get my words back. But… after that… yes. I'll go to help Barnes."

"I'll let Rogers know. He'll be relieved. Thank you, Tessa." There was a warmth in Natasha's expression as she stood again. "You know how to find us when you're ready. Maybe then we can talk about what happened. I'm happy to listen if you feel an ear is needed. If not, I'm also happy to pretend like nothing happened whatsoever."

Tessa stared at Natasha's hand squeezing her own as Clint wrung a hug out of her. "O--Okay…"

"Yeah. We're your friends, Tess. We all forgot that about each other for a while. We won't be doing that again. Call or pop up whenever you need anything. Let's… let's not let something like this happen again, not when your friends can help instead."

"You know what happened, don't you?" She asked as they turned for the door. "Dr. Strange told you what I did?"

"Sure. Hocus Pocus told us what went down. He also told us your brain was being eaten by some horcrux, Harry Potter style. Brainwashing comes with an immediate get out of jail free card in our circle. Trust me." Clint kissed the top of Tessa's head and then tousled her hair. "And, thanks, by the way for getting Jess so revved up--"

"Barton."

"--before she found me. I owe you one for that. And if, you know, you're around town… over in my neck of the woods--"

" _Barton_."

"--could you check in on Katie? I gotta know if she's okay and feeding my dog."

Natasha grabbed Clint's elbow and tugged him towards the door. "Ignoring this blather of his, Barton got one thing right, Tessa. Get in touch with us whenever you need to. We'll be happy to hear from you."

"Okay… Thanks. Um, if you can, would you send up anyone who's downstairs? I've got to… start explaining this."

"We will do that. And remember, this is a covert situation, so… please do not tell anyone where you're going or why. Anyway, rest up. Hopefully you'll be feeling better soon and we'll see you then."

"Yeah, get better quick, Tess. And, we're square now, by the way! I got you back for saving me from my trash nap way back…" Clint probably had more to say, but Natasha closed the door on him and, by the sound of it, dragged him down the hallway, leaving Tessa even more exhausted than before and her mind racing.

There was so much that she needed to do, but first and foremost, she needed to let everyone know that she'd be bailing on them asap. That was only fair, considering that she was, in fact, bailing on them after shitting on their heads for a month. "Sheesh, I'm a terrible person," she groaned to herself, out of force of habit.

The silence that followed in her head was both welcomed and harrowing. She reached for the scarred gash in her sternum, also out of force of habit. There was nothing there besides the thick, puckered line of scar tissue about three inches long where the opal had once sat lodged in her flesh and bone. There was no heat or tug anymore, just the divot in the bone below an ugly silvery slash. Running a finger over it, the scar felt like a seam in her. Like, if she peeled it open, they could pull away the full body mask she wore. One more scar to add to her count.

Tessa yanked her hand out of her blouse at the knock on her door. It had almost escaped her that she'd asked for a visitor to be sent up to her. Of course, it wasn't who she'd expected.

"Um, I think you wanted Matt, but he's passed out, cold out and I… I didn't want to bother him." Danny stepped inside the room and mostly closed the door, but didn't leave the immediate area of the doorway. "Jessica had to run out for a job and… and, well, Luke… he left. It's not really--He doesn't feel like it's much his business here. I think he was just here for Jessica's sake. He certainly thinks I'm an idiot for sticking around. I'll head back down now, but I didn't want you think there wasn't anyone here for you--"

"No!" Tessa almost shouted as he reached for the door again. That got him to stop blathering and stand still while she figured out how to say what she wanted to tell him. "No… it's… I'm happy that you came up, Danny. I… I… I wanted to, um, tell you I'm sorry, too-- to apologize, yeah, to apologize to you for… um… for using you?--for… for taking advantage of you. I shouldn't have… well, done anything that I did to you. It was wrong, but especially it was cruel. You…You're…You're a wonderful person, really. You don't deserve what I…I put you through, um… either way--regardless. And, now that I actually know you a little… it… it feels worse, because… I think… were the situation different… I…"

"Oh, you don't have to say it, Tessa." Rand's insane perennial good-humor shone even brighter then as he shook off a grimace. "I don't think I can actually handle you saying it, if you're about to say what I think you may be. I'm okay. I'm golden _. I'm_ sorry I didn't notice anything sooner. I should have realized you were not really yourself that first night and, after that, I, uh, can't believe that I did that…"

Tessa laughed, at his goofy expression, at his ridiculous estimation of blame, because still there was something about Rand that just made her feel lighter. "Yeah, while I was full-on seducing you, shame on you, Danny Rand, for not stopping me from doing something you'd wanted for a long while. Shame on you for not noticing I was a little off-kilter while I was stroking your dick!"

He cleared his throat and began carefully inspecting the floor. The tension in the air between them had just quadrupled. Tessa realized what she'd just said and the that the blood was rushing in her ears and then groaned. It wasn't just her speech center that she was struggling to regain control of again.

"This is what I'm talking about--I'm sorry. I'm… I'm still off. I'm sorry for that… my body seems to respond to you really-- Scratch that. There's no excuse. I'm just plain sorry."

"Hey, all's forgiven. No harm, no foul, right? Well… I should probably--"

"Rand, seriously. I'm sorry and I hope we can… maybe find a way to be friends, okay? When I get back… um, I'm leaving for a while once I'm well, but when I get back… I want to make this right between us, between everyone I fucked over…"

"I'm down. Maybe I can finally take you to dinner--" he held his hands up when Tessa looked up at him sharply "--as _friends_. We'll smooth this over. I'll look forward to it. Until then, I'll be around if you need me, yeah?"

Tessa returned his smile and then tucked her chin in spite of herself, like a shy schoolgirl. "Thanks, dragon boy. Will you tell Matt I wanted to talk to him if he's awake, please?"

"Sure thing!" Whatever boisterously sunny thing he did before closing the door, Tessa didn't see it. She was focused on winding her hands up in the sheets tightly enough that it almost hurt.

She absolutely needed to leave. There was no amount of control left in her life. This was somehow worse than the last time she'd woken up without any recollection of the past forty plus hours and little to no clue how to manage her mind and body. And that last time she'd died beforehand. The first time she'd just been a victim and all that bullshit had happened to her. This time, most of it was on her. She'd demolished all the hard work she'd put into establishing supports and boundaries to help cope from that first life-fuck event, and now she had to rebuild them amidst the wreckage of everyone's trust, the oppressive weight of guilt over the dozens of people she'd ruthlessly slaughtered, and her tenuous acceptance of her own immortality.

This was all sublimely fucked. Best case scenario, they packed her into a rocket and blasted her off to the moon. This was why the world was so scared of her. She went off her rocker and had gone on a powered killing spree. Maybe people like her really didn't belong in a civilian population, not if they couldn't be 100% sure something wouldn't set them off. And who could be 100% sure of anything? Tessa had certainly been sure--and self-righteously bitter about it--during her trial that there was no logical reason she was being attacked and that all the proceedings and restrictions were unfair and verging on persecution. Then she was attacked and it hit that one pressure point she hadn't realize she had and suddenly her 100% certainty meant nothing, her conviction in her own moral code folded to fear and vengeful rage.

At least now she knew, when her friends--her family were involved, she was not cool, calm, and collected. If someone threatened her loved ones, she became exactly the super powered entity everyone feared her to be, convictions and principles be damned. Problem was, of course, that everyone she loved was mortal and vulnerable. There was every chance that one of them would die in the next few days and Nemesis would return, magical soul-sucking wishing rock or not. What if her mind was fragile enough that it didn't even require a death to crack again? What if one of these days she counted one too many wrinkles on Matt or Jess or Natasha or any of the dozen others' face and she had a psychic meltdown? The thought terrified Tessa. It all terrified Tessa.

She needed to find a way to prevent all those horrific possibilities. The first step was clear: no more magic. None at all. It was like a drug for her. She swore to herself she wouldn't touch another magical item or attempt to use another spell. Anything she did would have to come from Emeoune's power within her. Period. And even that was too unregulated. She'd contact Stark and have him upgrade her tech. Nanobots and a suit and a magic-proof failsafe, just in case. Or better yet, Stark undid his mad scientist project and Tessa went back to being just Tessa, preferably the living version that aged and needed sleep and food and could choose not to have a family instead of having that choice pre-made for her. And most importantly, she'd be the Tessa that didn't threaten her friends and most of the world just by being conscious and having emotions.

"I don't want to be Mnemosyne anymore!" She shouted when the floorboards creaked outside her door. The noise had interrupted her epiphany and the words just came spilling out.

Jess bumped the door open with her hip, giving Tessa a shrug as she stepped inside. "Then, don't be. You won't get any judgment from me on that decision. In fact, as you know, I fully endorse that path. Here." She held out a bag and a small sheet of paper, which Tessa took with some hesitation.

"Did… somebody leave me a care package?"

"No, that note was left on Matt's chest. He's still asleep on the couch downstairs and I think Danny forgot that he's blind. The Rueben's from me, because I'm a good friend. Your best friend, who obviously cares about you and forgives you for shoving yourself out of her life."

"I'm really sorry, Jess," Tessa sighed, turning over the note. It looked like a six year old had written it and simply said that Tessa wanted to see Matt when he woke up. It could have been left for anyone really. That's what Tessa hoped, and not that Danny had figured out Matt's secret abilities because Tessa had implied he had them, like a rash asshole.

"I know you're sorry and I'm only giving you a little shit, mostly because I'm relieved to hear you making complete sentences. Also, although I'm over it, I just need to tell you that if you run away like that without telling me, or worse after erasing yourself from my brain, I'm going to smack you around a bit. Fair's fair."

"Honestly… I'm a little surprised that no one has beaten the… the… the snot out of me. I deserve it."

Jess considered her sandwich for a second before sighing and setting it down. "It's the stuttering and stammering, I think. We're all worried you have brain damage, something permanent-like. I'm not supposed to tell you that, but there it is. No matter what you do, nobody wants to be the one that breaks human memory because we're mad at its vessel." She picked her sandwich back up and rolled her eyes. "Oh, and we fucking care about you, moron. None of us want to _hurt_ you, regardless of what stupid fucking decisions you made or what you did. Did you seriously think that I--me of all the people in the world--could hold what you did against you?! Goddamn, Tess, it's like you don't know me at all."

"What happened to you and what happened to me are actually pretty different, Jess… I--"

"Shut up, chica, and eat your sandwich, before I shove it down your throat. I'm not having a discussion about types of victimization and trauma with you. I'm not mad at you, get over it."

"Well… you _are_ going to be mad at me. I'm… I'm… I'm leaving. Leaving town for a while." Tessa waited for that news to sink in, but Jess just blinked over at her.

"Is that it? Is that what's supposed to piss me off? Yeah, okay, you're leaving. So what? Your life just exploded in your face. I'd be a little freaked out if you didn't run away from it for a while. That's what I did. Don't really know how people move on from stuff like this without bailing for a while…"

Tessa felt her throat tightening. This was the opposite of what she deserved. Pushing away the foil and bag in front of her, Tessa leaned over and wrapped Jess in a hug. "You're… You're-- I don't have words for it, Jess. But… I just--I love you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't get all mushy on me, chica." Jess gently shoved her off. "But, yeah… I love you, too, and all that. Eat your sandwich, I spent money on it." 

"I'm going to go do somebody a favor somewhere and then… then I think I'm going to, uh… retire. I want to ask Stark to seriously try to remove this… this thing--this power from me."

"Sounds like a plan. A vague plan, but a plan all the same."

"You're… You're really not mad at me?" Tessa asked, wiping the stray tear from her eye.

"Me? Fuck no. I'd do the same in your situation. I'd certainly have my powers stripped from me if I could. I'm not about this life, I'm not cut out for it. It would certainly be easier for me if I were a sullen, reckless drunk without superpowers. I mean, parts of my job and stuff would be more difficult, but I'd also be significantly less of a liability. Worth it, to me."

"Thanks… for, uh, getting it. For understanding. So… since you're my best friend, and a great one at that… is there any way you would… oh, I don't know, tell--"

"Nope." Jess shook her head, partially wedging the as of yet untouched sandwich in Tessa's mouth. "I said that I love you, sure, but I'm not telling all your personal shit to Murdock for you. That's a discussion you gotta have with him, straight on, face to face, and alone. Come on, chica. You're not that much of a chicken. I know it's gonna be horrible and shitty and all that, but you've gotta be the one to do it. Think of how fucked up it would feel if he had Foggy tell you something like this. Ptssh. Nope. I'm not telling the sad, puppy dog lawyer that you're taking a break."

"It's just… I tried telling him, but he just wouldn't--"

"Then, try harder. Make it crystal fucking clear. He's a _really_ smart guy. He'll understand if you actually spell it out. It's hard because you, ya know, love him and shit… and that just means even more that you owe it to him and yourself to do this the right way."

Tessa begrudgingly bit into her sandwich. "I liked it better when you were all supportive and… and… and behind me on all my decisions."

"Tough love, chica. It's the only way we grow…"

"So… did you and Luke… really break it off, or something?"

Jess scoffed. "Really? Changing the subject? Okay. Yeah, we fell out when you changed our memories, actually. Don't worry, I'm still mad about something. I was saving it until you were better, but yeah. I'm pissed about that, but… if it's worth saving, we'll find a way to save it, I guess. Luke resents you a little, by the way. Doesn't matter how much Danny chirps in his ear, you ruined something he liked. He'll probably hold that grudge until you make it up to him."

"And you?"

"Oh, I'm angry. I broke a few things when I remembered, but… I know my priorities. And you didn't do it on purpose, it was a side effect, and… something already had to be wrong for it to fall apart with just a few things in our lives changed, some underlying problem. But, still… I'll get you back for it eventually. One more reason why I'm not going to make this 'let's take a break' thing with Murdock easier on you." She reached out and took the bag of chips Tessa had just grabbed. "Also, these are mine now. I'm going to take little things like this from you that you want for a while until I'm over it. Okay?"

"Fair's fair," Tessa sighed and went back to nibbling at her sandwich, watching Jess open and eat out of both bags of potato chips. "And… thanks for being at least a little vindictive. It, uh, it helps my guilt complex, like I'm not insanely getting off scot-free."

"My pleasure. Another way you can do penance? You can sate my rampant curiosity about one particular thing."

"Uh… what?"

Jess smirked. "It's really more to put you through your paces, because I don't actually give a fuck, but I know it'll make you squirm and you asked for it… Why don't you explain to me how you came about, in your semi-right mind, to fulfilling and _exceeding_ , to pornographic proportions, Danny Rand's smitten little fantasies?"

"Ugh…" Tessa smashed her eyes closed and sunk back into her pillows. "Yeah… I asked for that. Let's… Let's leave that for another day. I can't… I just… Oh, shit… I fucked so much up."

"Mm, and that right there is precisely why I'm not giving you more shit, chica. You'll punish yourself enough as it is. And, don't tell me about it. Ever. There are things in this world I just don't need to know. Okay?... Finish your sandwich or I'm eating it, too."

 

Tessa had tried to go downstairs to Matt with Jess when she left, but Dr. Strange intercepted them. He shooed her back up the stairs and into her room like a fussy nursemaid and, after a panicked and broken plea from Tessa about a magic intervention for her, left her alone with a cup of chamomile tea and a cell phone. She wasn't allowed to leave that floor until he gave her a clean bill of health, but the only healing that she would undergo from then on would be through human medicine. All magic would be kept away from her from now on, locked away like drugs and alcohol at a rehab clinic. Strange even seemed to condone her choice, or maybe he was so fed up with her squawking that he just agreed to get her to cooperate. It didn't matter, he left her there feeling much less paranoid about going nuclear on accident.

As for waiting to have the dreaded discussion with Matt, Tessa didn't end up having to wait for very long. Her distraught babbling seemed to have woken him up, since he knocked on her door only a few minutes after Strange had swept out.

"Jessica knows braille?" He asked, a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he held up Danny's note, now punched with corresponding holes below the letters.

"She looked it up. How'd you know it was her?"

"Fresh grease stain and she used a lock pick to punch the pips."

"Oh… I'm not even going to ask how you knew that was a lock pick. Um… I, uh, I need to talk to you."

He shut the door and pulled up the armchair beside her bed. "I figured, with the note and all… You… going to try to break up with me again?"

"You knew that's what I was trying to do before?!"

"Yeah, Tessa…" Matt sighed, a melancholy smile on his face. "Yes, I knew that's what you were trying to do. I just… I didn't want to let you… not while you were still disoriented and in shock and you might regret it later. But… I guess since you're no longer either of those things, it wasn't the trauma talking and you actually want to… to end this."

"I--I don't _want_ to end this, Matt." Tessa caught his hand and buried her face in it. "I really don't _want_ to do anything but pretend none of this ever happened… If I could, I would just… I would curl up in bed beside you and never leave. But… I _can't_. Even if we take… a… a break and you can trust me again, I'm scared of myself."

"Tessa…"

"No, I mean it. This isn't something I can just… just… just bounce back from. I _never_ thought I could go that… bad--that corrupt, certainly not that easily. And… the… the thing, um, it happened because of--the… the reason isn't just gone. Morris is… neutered--neutralized, yes, but… he was just one half of the reason. Anyone else can… can decide to target people I love--because of me, or not--and there's still the chance that I'll go down this road again. At least while… the… the aging thing is so… so… so… unavoidable for me, such a trigger, I'm a liability. I hope that I wouldn't, but there's a chance I could snap at the slightest… thing… uh, messing--provocation. Because I'm broken."

Matt chewed on his lip for a moment. "So… you want to put a pin in this? Until you're in a better place? You mean that."

"If I can even ever be in a better place, yes. That's what I mean. It's… for everybody's sake. I--I'm leaving soon, when I'm well enough. Something came up with… my other friends and I want to use the trip to… to…"

"Find a way to repent?"

"Something like that," Tessa sighed. "We can… if you still want to… um…"

"I'll be here when you get back. Then, we'll talk about this again." He smiled for her again, wiping the tears from her eyes, and then kissed her cheek. "But, you're here for now. Can we… have a little bit of time before you go?"

Tessa nodded immediately, rolling over a little bit so he could lie down beside her. "We do have some more catching up to do… I'm sorry about Elektra."

"No formalities, huh?" He exhaled sharply. "You're just… straight for the jugular."

"That seemed like the most glaring casualty of our conversations so far… It wasn't really fair that my tragedy overshadowed yours entirely."

Matt wrapped an un-bandaged arm around her waist, other hand combing through her hair. "I'm sorry, too… She… She wasn't… We… … … She shouldn't have died. I should've stopped it. All of it."

"I'm really sorry, Matt." Tessa had nothing else she could say. There was nothing else to say. Instead, she hugged him even tighter, face pressed to his chest. "I'm so, so sorry…"

"I ruined my friendship with Foggy, too…" His voice broke, a tear soaked warm into Tessa's hair. "And things're messy with Karen--she knows I'm--"

"I know… I, uh, may have stalked you for a little while."

His laugh was a little choked, followed by sniffles. "Yeah… well… I'm just setting fires left and right that I can't put out. I'm… I'm going to miss you, Tessa, but it's probably for the best that I not get you caught up in this."

"And vice versa. My fires are… well, not to say that they're bigger than your fires, but they are. We're a fire hazard."

"I'm so glad you're yourself again." Matt's arms were like vices around her, even his hurt one, like he was clinging to her for dear life. For a second, Tessa was really worried about him, his mental state, and not about herself for once.

"I wish I were more so. I wish I could be here for you."

"I'll be okay," he mumbled. "I have one less thing on my plate now. The rampaging murder machine turned out to be my girlfriend and she's been exorcised, so I don't have to worry about tracking her down anymore. Remember when you handed me my ass with that sword? If I hadn't been so furious, I would have been impressed--that's a lie. I was damned impressed. How'd you learn to use a sword like that?"

"Magic. I don't think I could even unsheathe one without fumbling it anymore."

"Hm… That's… a shame, but also probably for the best. Swords are one of those weapons that are pretty much just… deadly."

"I'm sorry I killed all those men, Matt…"

"I know you are. You'll find a way to absolve yourself, I believe you can." He kissed the top of her head, words a little slurred with drowsiness. "That's not who you are."

"I hope you're right…"

"'M always right. 'S why'm a lawyer."

As Matt dropped off, his breathing slowing and deepening around Tessa, reality forced itself back into her consciousness. This would likely not happen again for a long time, maybe ever. She might never fall asleep in Matt's arms like this again. Tessa pushed the thought away, though, and shut her eyes. If it was the last time, she was going to drift off to sleep beside him happily, the smell of his skin and the beat of his heart the last things on her mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next this Summer: "Mnemosyne: Mind, Body, Soul Searching"


End file.
